Every Day
by Devon Marie Darling
Summary: AU-human. Every morning for the past four years, Arthur would make his way past the balcony of Francis Bonnefoy where a laidback Frenchman stood every morning to smoke. Every morning for the past four years, the said Frenchman would call down from his balcony a proposal. Every morning his proposal would be rejected but he hadn't give up hope just yet.
1. Chapter 1

Devon: Okay I wasn't going to post this but I've been dancing around this idea for months and I couldn't put it off any longer.

Warning: There's a little swearing in here and...that's about it so far.

Disclaimer: I own the plot but nothing more.

Rating: M. This won't be a necessary warning for quite a while but eventually the M rating will be appropriate.

Every Day  
France (Francis) x Arthur (England/yeah they'll be others but I'll list them when we get there.

Chapter One

Arthur Kirkland was known for living the exact same day over and over again. He wasn't really stuck in a never ending time loop caused by some foolish time traveling or anything like that. His life continued on at the same pace everyone else's did. On April 23rd, at precisely 10:15 a.m. if you were being specific, Arthur aged another year. He lived 24-hour days and was subjected to the irritating time change twice a year just like everyone else. No, 24 year-old Arthur's problem was not that he could not progress in life but rather that he chose not to.

At exactly 6:15 sharp every morning for the past four years, Arthur woke up, alone, in his quiet apartment. He took a shower of exactly six and a half minutes. Monday through Friday, Arthur then put on a crisp grey suit, white button up shirt, and simple red tie. He put the kettle on, got the morning newspaper, and came back in to finish making his morning tea. He made two slices of toast and burnt them every time. By this point in his life, he was used to the smoky aftertaste left behind the strawberry jam he spread across the burned bread. Never taking more than twenty minutes to eat, Arthur cleaned up his breakfast mess and refolded his newspaper, leaving it on the living room coffee table to be read at a later time. Arthur finished his morning routine by brushing his teeth and attempting to calm his messy dirty blonde hair, one of the few parts of his life he truly had no control over, before leaving his apartment. Arthur took the stairs to the apartment complex's ground floor, carrying his brief case in one hand and checking the time on his watch with the other. He always left the house by seven o'clock.

The parking lot for the residents of the apartment complex was behind the building and so Arthur walked down the curving paved path to his old car at a relaxed pace. His sleek black oxford shoes made a gentle clicking sound against the pavement usually accompanied by bird song, the sound of passing traffic, or a casual 'hello' coming from someone taking an early morning jog. Arthur liked this part of his morning especially well because no matter the weather he could stop to appreciate the nature around him.

The familiar path Arthur took every day was surrounded by tall bushes. In the summer and spring the bushes were especially beautiful, alive with colorful blossoms, buzzing insects, and lively small animals scampering to and fro. This particular late summer day was still warm enough for the path to be alive with activity. The leaves on the many trees surrounding the complex had begun to dye themselves to match the twilight sky but the drying leaves had yet to begin falling. Arthur's eyes, which had been described as 'emerald' once when he was in high school but he liked to think they matched the green color of the nature surrounding him, crinkled around the corners as an absent-minded smile relaxed the Brit's pale features.

Finally, the back of the apartment building came into view. Arthur would like to be thankful that he was almost to his car but by making it this far, Arthur was now preparing himself for the next part of his uniform day.

Francis Bonnefoy stood out on his balcony, relaxing against the wrought-iron railing keeping him from tumbling to the earth three stories below. Though the Frenchman was accustomed to sleeping and lazing about his house in next-to-no clothing, he always threw on some baggy jeans and an old shirt to have his morning cigarette. By now the 26 year-old was convinced that the nicotine was less of an addiction and more of a welcome old friend.

Slightly curled wayward hairs tickled the bare skin of the Frenchman, underneath the back collar of his shirt. Most of his long hair was tied away from his face with a thin hair band or ribbon but the wavy locks tended to be unruly and made their way out of their confines to frame his serene face.

Every morning Arthur Kirkland passed by the balcony of Francis Bonnefoy on his way to work. Every morning, Francis looked down at the Englishman with a lazy smile and called down to him:

"_Bonjour _Arthur. Good morning."

A sinisterly adorable scowl would drag Arthur's rather bushy eyebrows closer together as he looked up at the Frenchman.

"Hn," He would grunt, turning back towards the parking lot. "Frog."

Originally, Francis assumes, the term was intended as an insult. Some sort of dig at his nationality. However, Francis and Arthur had been exchanging the same idle prattle every morning for four years and by now 'Frog' had grown to be a term of endearment reserved for Arthur's use and Arthur's use alone.

"Arthur dear, marry me?" Francis would propose every morning with a light hearted laugh as Arthur's retreating figure continued to grow smaller.

Every morning for the past four years, Arthur would make his way past the balcony of Francis Bonnefoy where a laidback Frenchman stood every morning to smoke. Every morning for the past four years, the said Frenchman would call down from his balcony a proposal. Occasionally, he would add more to the silly question. Usually phrases in French Arthur might actually be able to translate if he paid enough attention but they were usually just ignored.

"Go to hell you bloody frog!" Arthur called before he made another turn around the corner of the building and went to retrieve his car from the car shelter.

Every morning for the past four years, Francis Bonnefoy would propose to a stubborn Englishman who rejected him every morning for the past four years. Still, he hadn't given up hope just yet.

Devon: Okay, there we go. I hope you guys enjoyed. Reviews would be lovely. ^_^


	2. Chapter 2

Devon: Wow. Okay, exactly one day after posting this story I came down with the flu and I've been pretty miserable ever since. However I finally got to the point where I'm not bedridden and only someone miserable, and what do I find but reviews and favorites and follows(?) of this story and it just made getting better like 110% better so thank you guys.

Warning: I told myself I wouldn't do the swtiching POV thing in this story but I did. I just can't seem to help myself so please forgive me. Other than that I don't think a warning is really necessary for this chapter.

Discalimer: I do not own Hetalia or the characters, only the plot for this ridiculous story.

Rating: M~ Not right now but we'll get there. Eventually.

Every Day  
France (Francis) x Arthur (England)/America (Alfred) x Japan (Kiku)/yeah they'll be others but I'll list them when we get there.

Alfred F. Jones hurried to his car because, like every morning, he was running late. He liked to blame how absent minded he was. To claim that if he could only find where his kicked off shoes had disappeared to, his peeled off jacket went, and keep track of his briefcase and car keys he_ wouldn't_ always be scrambling to get to work on time. His brother disagreed. Matthew, prince of punctuality, would only call it "bad time management skills" and remind Alfred that if he finished up his work when he was supposed to and went to bed at reasonable hours instead of staying up half the night watching scary movies and playing video games getting up in time for work would be easy for him. What a mother hen.

Across the parking lot, from under car shelter, Alfred's prized possession smiled at him in the morning sun. A silver Saleen S7, Alfred's baby was not only well taken care of and powerful, she was beautiful too. If there was anything to make him feel better after a difficult morning it would be taking a drive in that gorgeous car and hearing her purr. Tingling with anticipation, Alfred rushed across the otherwise empty lot to his baby.

As he looked up from unlocking the door to his S7, Alfred noticed another resident of his apartment complex opening his car door not too far away. Arthur Kirkland. If Matthew was the prince of punctuality, Arthur was the king. Most mornings, Alfred and Arthur left for work around the same time, which Alfred figured, despite his "bad time management skills", had to count for something.

"Mornin', Arthur!"

Alfred was a naturally friendly person which tended to make people, if not like him, at least treat him pleasantly. Unfortunately, his chipper personality made him a bit oblivious to people who would rather he shut up than try and make conversation with them, such as introverted people like Arthur.

"Good Morning, Alfred."

The reply, though not malicious, was spoken in a tone of voice one would usually use with a misbehaving child who had failed to listen the first few times you gave them directions. Irritated but mostly level, with worn patience drawing the tone short. With no other comment, Arthur got into his car, an ugly little Nissan Micra, all white and rusty, and drove away.

Shaking his head, Alfred contemplated how anyone could be such an angry person all the time and slipped into his baby.

* * *

Arthur didn't relax until he got to work. Mornings, he had decided long ago, were his least favorite time of day Monday through Friday. The first part of everyday was fine. He quite liked his morning routine. It was just after that last curve in the path that ultimately led to him interacting with people that they took a turn for the worse. It started with Francis and his stupid, ridiculous _marriage_ proposal and usually ended with Alfred who had too much money and energy than the obnoxious American knew what to do with.

Which was probably why Arthur enjoyed work so much. Of course he did have to interact with his clients and co-workers sometimes but for the most part, it was just Arthur and the numbers he needed to crunch. The numbers calmed him down after his mornings with idiots like Francis and Alfred who asked stupid questions and we just too happy and loud for the mornings. Arthur was an auditor and he was good at his job. Financial statements were the language of his people and he knew the language fluently; backwards, sideways, and in every dialect you could conjure.

A meeting had been scheduled for the morning but it wasn't until ten o'clock that morning and Arthur's first client of the day wasn't coming in until after lunch leaving him two blissful hours to himself. Work was another aspect of his life that Arthur didn't have complete control over. He didn't make the schedule he and his co-workers had to follow and there was no guarantee that his client would be understanding or cooperative with him. For a man like Arthur, the idea of not having control of exactly how things would go was a little unnerving, but the challenge was a bit of a thrill. And even he couldn't deny that his life was sorely lacking in "thrills".

Arthur went to lunch at noon. Not ten minutes away from his workplace was a small, family owned shop, tucked away into a corner. They served a lovely stew Arthur got every time he went and their tea wasn't half-bad either. The owner and most of the workers knew him by name after so long and what his usual was. Arthur actually never learned the name of the shop, but it didn't bother him. He knew it would be there when he needed it to be and so there wasn't a problem.

Today, Arthur walked to the shop. It was still beautiful outside and he saw no reason to waste the gas. Once he got there, Arthur took his usual seat at a table for two in a dark back corner of the place. A waiter had headed his way when the realized who he was, nodded hello, and went straight back to the kitchen. A smile perked Arthur's lips slightly at this and he relaxed back into his chair.

_It's a rather good day when you look at it_. Arthur told himself. Sure he had to interact with Francis and Alfred this morning but those things aside, this day was turning out quite marvelous. And if service was fast enough, he might even get some bread pudding to finish off his lunch.

After a wonderful lunch of beef stew and bread pudding, Arthur returned to the office to learn that his second appointment of the day had rescheduled to next week, Wednesday. So his only client of the day was a Mr. Kiku Honda who happened to be one of Arthur's favorite clients, thanks to his respectful personality and understanding nature Arthur had never had any kind of problem with him. Kiku Honda was scheduled to come in at 1:30, giving Arthur just enough time to make sure everything was in order for his meeting when the Japanese man came in on the dot.

"Mr. Honda, it's nice to see you again." Arthur greeted, standing from his desk to shake hands with his quiet client. Kiku nodded a hello and took the offered seat across the desk. "So you would like to go over _all_ of your financials with me today, correct?"

"That is correct, yes." He replied quietly, threading his fingers together and placing them on his lap.

It was a bit of a strange request for an auditor to get from a client and also rather tedious, but Arthur couldn't bring himself to be angry at the shy man for requesting such a thing. Kiku would never ask for something like this without good reason behind it and even if there wasn't a good reason, Kiku was a client Arthur could never bring himself to be angry with, and so the two began the tedious task of going through the financials of Mr. Kiku Honda.

The meeting between the two lasted a bit longer than either had anticipated but it didn't bother Arthur much and Kiku assured him that the rest of his day had been cleared and that the slightly extended meeting didn't bother him in the least. Everything of his was in order was the end conclusion the two made, which Arthur knew it would be. He was good at his job but if there was ever a problem, he was pretty sure he could count of Kiku to take over for him before one of his co-workers and he would come back to everything being in the perfect order that he left it.

"If you don't mind my asking, Mr. Honda, why the sudden need to make sure everything was in order?" Arthur asked as Kiku was getting ready to leave his office. It was a forward question that surprised even him when it slipped past his lips but Arthur pushed the surprise away, telling himself that the two had known each other long enough that it wasn't _that_ strange for him to ask. "You normally check this once a year but much closer to the end of the year than now."

"I thought it would be better safe than sorry," Kiku admitted with what Arthur thought could almost be the ghost of a smile. "To make sure I had everything in order before the wedding."

Arthur's eyes widened to twice their usual size at the words of one of his oldest clients.

"Y-You're getting married, Mr. Honda? I-Congratulations."

It was miniscule but there was a smile brightening the pale face of the Japanese man standing in his office now.

"Thank you, Kirkland-san." Was Kiku's reply.

Arthur saw Kiku to the door, sending him on his way with more congratulations and a promise to call if he noticed anything strange pop up.

The surprise left by the news of Kiku Honda's impending marriage kept Arthur occupied long after a strangely familiar S7 came to pick up the shy man from the office.

Devon: So there's another couple mixing their way into the story line! Sorry that there was no Francis this chapter. There should be some more of him next one though. I'd love if you darlings dropped me some reviews to help the medicine go down. ;3

Replies to the Reviewers:

First of all, thank you all for reviewing:

Now then.

**GreeneyedAlice91**: Of course you may have some more. :3

**DivoTsvetche**: I'm so glad you like it :3, and thank you.

**YaoiLove**: Why thank you. I'm so glad. :3

**Francey-pants98**: I promise I will continue it. The world _does_ need more FrUk. :3

**Outakurebecca**: I will certainly try. :3

Keep Writing  
~DMD


	3. Chapter 3

Devon: So in return for you guys being so damn amazing, I tried really hard to make this a long chapter. With the promised Francis. And I'm finally leading towards the eventual FrUk. ;3 Just a note, the time frame has a changed a bit from early autumn to late summer because when I started this story, I knew I needed another couple who would be getting married in the course of the story but I hadn't chosen who. Alfred just kind of waltzed himself into chapter two without my consent and my brain went "Um hello, your OTP is Ameripan have those two get married, duh" and (based on the somewhat-dedicated research I did) the alliance between America and Japan occurred around September 8th so I'm using that as the date for their wedding unless some other history buff whose good with dates informs me that I'm wrong. Sorry for the long author's note and enjoy chapter three. :)

Warning: Um...man x man love is starting to bloom but honestly if I need to warn you about that this far into this story you shouldn't be reading it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, Nekotalia, Nyotalia, the characters, or anything else associated with the name. I only own the plot to this story in which I use someone else's characters for my (and your) enjoyment.

Rating: M. But honestly this chapter could probably be rated K. It's pretty...innocent. x3

Every Day  
France (Francis) x Arthur (England)/America (Alfred) x Japan (Kiku)/yeah they'll be others but I'll list them when we get there.

Chapter Three

Francis Bonnefoy's bare feet padded gently against the tiled floor of his kitchen. Late afternoon sunlight warmed the middle of the floor, filtering in through the thin curtains draped across the windows. A lazy smile teased the Frenchman's lips as he turned on the faucet and washed his hands in the sink. He had resumed work on a painting that he had been avoiding for the past few days and after three hours of work, he finally felt better about it. Lost in his thoughts about how nice the painting was turning out, Francis didn't hear the soft "meowing" coming from the door way. It wasn't until Francis felt something gently brushing against his legs that he acknowledged the other living creature in the room.

"_Bonjour _Françoise." Francis greeted, turning off the water and grabbing a towel to dry his hands. The blonde Frenchman squatted closer to the long-haired feline who looked up at him with vibrant blue eyes. Françoise looked back up at her human, her tail flicking back and forth to show her appreciation of the attention he was giving her. An even wider smile brightened Francis's face as he put the hand towel back onto the kitchen counter before scooping the white cat into his arms and scratching behind her ear.

The pair made their way into the open living room. A warm breeze blew through the apartment through the open doors leading to the balcony and ruffled the pages of an open magazine sitting on the coffee table. Francis relaxed onto the couch and grabbed the magazine to flip through it. Françoise settled into his lap for another cat nap.

Days like these were a favorite of Francis. Time had no meaning as he created his masterpieces; as he wasted hours just relaxing with Françoise and their serene surroundings. There was no specific schedule for him to follow. It was for days like this that Francis quit the day job he had before. He might have been good-great even-at what he did but there was something missing from his scheduled, by-the-book life. As it was now, there were only two scheduled appointments that Francis always kept. One at 7:10, roughly, every morning, and one around 5:20 in the evening.

It was the faint sound of humming, and Françoise, that alerted Francis of the time. A wall clock across the room quietly ticked away the seconds, drawing 5:19 closer to 5:20. Francis apologized to Françoise as he gently lifted her off his lap and made his way to the balcony. The familiar, messy hair of a particularly grumpy Englishman was coming into view as the blonde leaned against the wrought-iron railing of his balcony and the faint humming was growing louder. It was when all of Arthur came into view that Francis realized he was the one humming. If the Frenchman had to guess, he'd say the tune was "God Save the Queen".

Francis could feel himself relaxing, to his surprise, even more as the soft tune reached his ears. Arthur's eyes were closed as he strolled down the paved path; his briefcase tucked under one arm, his hands buried in the pockets of his pleated trousers. His expression was peaceful and relaxed and Francis swore in that moment, a little part of him fell in love. It almost hurt him to interrupt Arthur's moment of serenity, but he also knew how much of a stickler Arthur was for his uniform day and Francis hated to disappoint.

"_Bonjour_, Arthur." Francis called down, feeling a small rush as Arthur's green eyes opened to blink up at him. "How was work today?"

Arthur was suddenly struck with an internal dilemma. Every morning, Francis greeted him with a pleasant "hello" and a ridiculous marriage proposal. He responded each morning with a monotonous grunt, followed by an angry rejection. It was their uniform morning routine. Likewise, they had a routine for the afternoon. Francis would greet him, asking about his day. Arthur was expected to respond with the same, off-ish, indifference that he used in the morning before Francis's marriage proposal. However, today was such a wonderful day, Arthur was struck with the urge to respond pleasantly to Francis's question. Could he throw off the natural order of his day, a day he planned to be almost completely identical to all of his other weekdays, because he was in such high spirits?

"It was wonderful, Francis. Thank you for asking."

The words slipped past Arthur's lips before he could over think what a terrible idea it was. The surprise accompanied by the new reply was left evident on the face of both of the men present. Arthur's widened eyes stared up at Francis as a rosy color bloomed across his pale cheeks. A shocked smile spread across Francis's face as he looked down at the flustered and confused Englishman.

"_Magnifique_, I'm so glad Arthur."

Arthur hurried away from Francis's balcony, not daring to look back or slow down until he reached the door that would lead to his apartment.

"I don't know what came over me." Arthur complained, shutting his apartment door behind him. He slipped out of his shoes and left his briefcase next to them as he to the kitchen. Half-way to the kitchen, Alice intercepted Arthur's attention. The brown-and-white Scottish Fold wound herself around her human's legs and meowed loudly.

"Hello there, old girl." Arthur replied to the cat's call, bending down to pick her up. "Did you have a nice day?"

Unblinking, olive green eyes stared back at him and Arthur sighed, resuming his trek to the kitchen.

"I don't know what happened. Everything had been going great until my walk back home." Arthur explained. Uninterested in her master's dilemma, Alice wiggled her way out of Arthur's arms and trotted over to her food dish. Arthur watched the feline dine with her back to him and he shook his head in disbelief. "Your indifference to my problem is touching. You know someone who didn't know better might think you don't care about me." Arthur informed her as he began making another pot of tea.

Alice and Arthur had been together since his freshman year of high school, ten years ago, when he found her as a young kitten, cast out alone and in the rain. Arthur was as antisocial as he was methodical and Alice wasn't exactly the friendliest feline but the two of them became fast and close friends. Arthur was used to talking about his day with the furry backside of his flat mate but he didn't mind. Alice may act like she doesn't care but when he's at his worst; she's always there for him.

Arthur took two scones out of his ceramic cookie jar, something he had made in high school for his mother that she re-gifted as a housewarming present when he moved out, to have with his afternoon cup of tea and went to the living room.

The previous conversation with Francis would continue to bother Arthur. It would haunt him when he was trying to go to sleep. When Monday came back around and he went through his usual morning routine, the thought that he had actually attempted to make pleasantries with Francis the previous Friday, would most likely make him stumbled over the few words he exchanged with the Frenchman. However, Arthur refused to let the slip up in his usual day mess with his evening.

He would have his tea and scones and read the rest of the day's paper. At 6:30 he would go back to the kitchen, clean up the mess he might have made while making his tea, and then make himself dinner. For example, tonight he would re-warm the last slice of the meatloaf he had made Monday night. Arthur would then clean up the kitchen once more, and make sure to refill both of Alice's bowls before he went back to the living room. A half-hour of news would occupy his time before he went to bed. From eight to nine o'clock, Arthur would do more on his needle work or read another few chapters of a book before going to bed, most nights accompanied by Alice who claimed the left side of the bed for herself.

As Arthur finally began to drift to sleep at nine-thirty that night, his afternoon "chat" with Francis replayed itself in his mind. Unfortunately for the meticulous Englishman, he had no idea that one slip up in his uniform day would send his scheduled life spiraling out of control.

* * *

Unlike Arthur, Francis was not asleep by nine-thirty. That particular Friday night in late August, Francis was working at the restaurant he had become head chef at once he quit his previous day job. That night he would be working from seven-thirty until close, which most likely would be eleven o'clock. He didn't mind. The restaurant was a five-star eatery and was well known for its exquisite French cuisine. Furthermore Francis had many friends that worked the night shift with him.

That particular Friday night however, Francis wasn't as focused on his work as he usually was, and people noticed. It started with the oldest waitress at the restaurant who asked Francis if he was feeling alright or if he needed to go home for the night and have someone cover his shift and ended with one of his best friends pulling him off to the side on their break.

"Your performance tonight has been a little less than its usual awesomeness and I'm just making sure you're doing alright." Gilbert Beilschmidt explained to Francis, draping an arm across his shoulders. Francis looked at the loud-mouthed albino with a lopsided, tired smile.

"Thank you for your concern, _mon ami_," _Arthur smiled at me this afternoon_. "But everything is alright. I'm just a bit preoccupied tonight." _His smile is even more beautiful than I thought it'd be_.

Francis made _ratatouille, bouillabaisse_, and a wide arrangement of other dishes but his mind was on the smile a grumpy Englishman had sent his way when he happened to catch him in a good mood. Finally, when Francis went to sleep that night around twelve o'clock midnight, he swore he would do anything in his power to make Arthur smile like that just one more time.

Devon: See guys I tried to make it longer for you lovely people, I hope it worked. :3

Replies to the Reviewers:

First of all, thank you all for reviewing:

Now then.

**greeneyedAlice91**: *gasp* How could you not? No, Ameripan is a pretty unpopular pairing, I'll admit, but I love it so I'm happy I could squeeze it in here and that seem to like how I've portrayed it. I hope you enjoyed this extra-Francis filled chapter. :3

**Xylaphe**: Thank you. I hope you stick around to read it all. :)

**MangaAndAnimeFairy**: It was my pleasure I'm so glad you like it. :)

**Francey-pants98**: You do? *small pause while I fangirl* He is quite sexy, I hope you enjoyed him in this chapter. Why thank you. :3

**Alice D. Lovett**: I'm glad you think so. 3 Are they? I was afraid I might not be able to get them right but if you say they're perfect I believe you. :3 Haha it sounds a bit weird but I think I know what you mean so thank you. I am ecstatic that Ameripan got in here some how. I blame Alfred because I knew I wanted Kiku in the last chapter but Alfred just kind of forced his way in so..x3

Keep writing  
~DMD


	4. Chapter 4

Devon: I'm so sorry about the wait guys! I knew this update would take a little longer than the others because I was going out of town for a few days but I ended up staying out of town for a little longer than I expected and then my schedule just spiraled out of control (a bit like Arthur's I guess. xD) and so I've written little parts of this chapter just whenever I had a few minutes to spare.

Warning: Another character is introduced and he might be a bit out of character. I think he's pretty in character but I'm baised because I just don't like the almost entirely passive personality other people have given him.

Discalimer: *sigh* I wish.

Rating: M. (Still an innocent chapter though)

Every Day France (Francis) x Arthur (England)/America (Alfred) x Japan (Kiku)/yeah they'll be others but I'll list them when we get there.

Chapter Four

The first sign that Arthur's carefully planned life was no longer going according to schedule came Saturday morning. Unlike every morning before, the familiar ringing of his alarm clock did not wake him up at exactly 6:15. Instead it was a constant knocking on his front door. Since his alarm had not gone off, Arthur assumed that it was still quite early and could not exactly fathom why anyone in their right mind would be up that early, let alone what they wanted with him. Nonetheless he rolled out of bed, yanked on his robe, and went to stop the incessant knocking.

"Alright, alright I'm coming." Arthur called as he undid the two locks on his flat's door and pulled it open. Upon seeing the blonde man standing on the other side of the door, Arthur promptly shut it once more. That would explain the ungodly waking hour; the man on the other side _wasn't_ in his right mind.

"No Alfred. The answer is no. I don't care what the question is."

Arthur and Alfred could fake pleasantries all they wanted, every week day morning for the rest of their lives for all Arthur cared, but Saturdays and Sundays were days he reserved for himself and damned if he was going to let the obnoxious American ruin that.

"It's me Arthur, Matthew. Remember me?"

The soft voice on the other side of the door made Arthur pause. Of course he remembered Matthew, Alfred's much more pleasant twin brother. It had been years since the two had spoken though. Slowly, Arthur reopened his door to study the appearance of his unexpected guest. The man on the other side of the door looked undeniably similar to the American Arthur interacted with on an almost daily basis with his blonde hair and wire glasses and friendly, inviting features. However, the man was a bit shorter and leaner than the muscled American. His slightly-darker hair was a bit longer with a strange wayward curl in place of a cowlick. And his wide, child-like eyes were more violet than the bright blue Alfred's were.

"Oh…oh of course I remember you Matthew. I'm sorry it's just-" The Englishman trailed off.

"I-I understand." The blonde replied with a small, half-hearted smile. A silence settled over the two as they stood there in the empty hallways when finally, Matthew cleared his throat. "Um…may I come in?"

The question snapped the Englishman to attention. Scrambling to open the door wider and invite the man in, Arthur silently berated himself. He couldn't believe he'd let himself get so distracted that he'd completely forgotten all of his manners.

"Please do."'

The two men made their way to Arthur's living room, where the Englishman invited his guest to sit on his couch as he took a seat across from him on the old rocking chair.

"So Matthew, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Arthur asked, adjusting himself in his seat. He was suddenly reminded of the fact that while his guest was dressed and ready for the day, he was still in his bed clothes.

The silence that fell over the two men as Matthew wrung his hands together and tried to think of the right way to form his request reminded Arthur of just how shy the man really was. He fondly remembered growing up with the two boys and the shocked expressions that came over people they met once they realized Matthew was there. It was so easy for the blonde to hide behind his charismatic brother that he never really came out of his shell around anyone but Alfred and eventually Arthur. Perhaps in the years that kept the two of them apart, Matthew had drawn back into his self.

"I've come on behalf of A-Alfred."

The content of Matthew's outburst surprised Arthur just as much as the outburst itself surprised Matthew.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shout."

Arthur sat forward in his chair, running his hands through his hair with a sigh. He couldn't bring himself to be surprised by the fact that Matthew had come to talk about Alfred, only disappointed.

"Matthew-" Arthur started, ready to spew out to the blonde the same speech he gave in his senior year of high school but the fidgety blonde sat forward as well and held up his hand to silence Arthur.

"I-I know. I've heard everything you have to say on the subject. And what happened between you and Alfred is really unfortunate. But the two of you have proven that despite that you can act like adults around each other." At the disbelieving look Arthur sent his way, Matthew explained that he knew Arthur and Alfred spoke to each other almost every morning with usually pleasant greetings.

"Alright Matthew, after six years two grown men can act like mature adults around each other. I don't see how that is really important. Trying to mend the rift that ended out friendship all those years ago will just reopen old wounds." Arthur said before Matthew could continue with his explanation.

"Alfred misses you in his life Arthur, even after all these years he still looks up to you like an older brother, even if he won't admit it. And I have a feeling you still have fond feelings of him too, despite all of the negative ones that built up."

Matthew, who was better at hiding in the shadows than making his presence known, had grown up to be a man very good at reading other people. He had also grown up practicing on his brother and Arthur. Arthur, who knew this fact, realized early on in this conversation that he couldn't pretend around Matthew like he could around Alfred.

"What's your point?" Arthur may have realized that he couldn't pretend around Matthew but that didn't mean he had to give in to the blonde without a fight. An airy laugh that was more of a light expel of air than actual laughter came from Matthew and he smiled, a soft far away smile.

"Alfred's getting married." Matthew explained, choosing to ignore the surprised look on Arthur's face. "Mom and Dad have both passed away. Arthur, the two of us are really the only family Alfred has left and I know it would mean the world to him to have you at his wedding."

Arthur let the words sink in. He had heard about the boy's mother passing away through the grapevine but he hadn't heard of their father's passing. And _Alfred,_ of all people, was getting married.

"When…when is the wedding?" Arthur asked cautiously. This question however seemed to make the other man even more nervous instead of putting some of his fears to rest like Arthur assumed it would.

"Um…S-September eighth."

"That's less than a bloody month from now!" Arthur snapped. Matthew winced.

"I-I know. They're not doing a big wedding though. Just close friends and family with them at the court house then a bigger reception with more guests." Matthew explained quickly, trying his hardest to reassure Arthur. "Most people have already been invited and there isn't going to be any kind of shower or anything beforehand so…it only _seems_ like short notice."

It once more took Arthur a few minutes to process everything Matthew was telling him. If fact, he got so caught up in reviewing everything that had been discussed during Matthew's short visit, that it wasn't until Matthew cleared his throat and stood up, as if to leave, that Arthur realized he hadn't said anything for quite a long time.

"Why don't you take some more time to t-think about it, Arthur and give me an answer tomorrow. At brunch with Alfred and Kiku?" Matthew suggested.

"Kiku?" Arthur couldn't keep from asking. _It has to be a coincidence, _he told himself.

"Alfred's fiancé." Was Matthew's explanation. " You'll like him Arthur." _Definitely a coincidence._

Arthur got up to lead his anxious guest to the door and before he knew it he had grudgingly agreed to the brunch date with the three men.

"It was nice to see you again, Matthew." Arthur said as an afterthought. Matthew, who had already been a few steps away from Arthur's flat turned back around to reply with a small smile.

"It was nice." He agreed, stepping up to give Arthur a gentle hug good bye.

Once Matthew was gone, Arthur headed for his kitchen. Normally he wouldn't have his morning tea and toast until after he was showered and dressed but he argued that he was closer to the kitchen and one day of eating first wouldn't hurt anything. So naturally, it wasn't until Alice sauntered into the kitchen and voiced a surprised 'meow' at seeing the undressed Arthur did Arthur realize something with seriously, seriously wrong with his carefully planned life and it didn't even have anything to do with the obnoxious fool Alfred.

Three apartments away to the left, right, below, and above Arthur could hear the crash of his porcelain mug shattering across his kitchen floor and his outraged shouting as mocking red numbers stared back at him from the stove top.

_11:30 a.m._

Devon: Finally finished! Haha! Anyways, the writing style of this chapter is a little different than the other ones and I think that's probably because I'm starting to shift away from the plain narrative and I'm adding more character interaction. Thoughts? Hope you all enjoyed! :3

Replies to the Reviewers:

First of all, thank you all for reviewing:

Now then.

**Xylaphe**: Thank you! :3 Now, this is a good question and it will be elaborated on more as the story continues, but yes the two of them did know each other previously when they were _much_ younger. ;3

**greeneyedAlice91**: I'm so glad I brighted your day a bit! Your favorite band wouldn't happen to be MCR would it? (I heard about _their_ break up and even if they weren't my favorite I'm still pretty sad about that.) I'm so glad! :3 (Unfortunately its slowly going to become more complicated, sorry darling). Haha thank goodness (who doesn't love Gilbert though?). I will try. :)

**Angleterre97**: Haha I'm glad you're liking it. If you want to write a story like this though, don't give up. You probably just haven't found the perfect approach for you, it doesn't mean you can't do it!

**Kyuubigurl74**: I plan to! :)

**Outakurebecca**: Yay! (I really loved writing them so I'm glad you enjoyed reading them x3) Thank you. :3

**Francey-pants98**: I'm sorry this update wasn't _too_ soon. I'll try and be a bit quicker with the next one. This has just been a real busy time in my life with my trip out of town and then a buttload of birthdays, one right after the other, I've barely had anytime to write. Things should calm down a bit more after this coming Monday though because after than the events get a bit more spread out. x3


	5. Chapter 5

Devon: I'm sorry about the wait guys. I really hadn't realized how busy I would be or that it had been so long since I updated. On another note, Happy Birthday to Suki-chan14. Happy Belated Birthday(?) to any Homestucks who might be reading. Happy Anniversary to all of you guys because on April 9th this story had been up for offically one month. And lastly Happy Belated Brithday to myself who celebrated aging one more year on April 8th. You guys probably didn't know it when you reviewed for the last chapter that my birthday was coming up (if you did I'm a bit suscpicious of you now) but those were pretty much just totally amazing early birthday gifts so thank you all. :)

Warning: I'm pretty sure I started writing this chapter with the intent of making it come across as meaningful and instead it just turned to fluff.

Disclaimer: I don't own _Hetalia_, _Doctor Who_, or any of Dante Alighieri's works.

Rating: M for fluff that came into this chapter upon hostile take-over.

Every Day  
France (Francis) x England (Arthur)/America (Alfred) x Japan (Kiku)/Yes there will be more but I'll save those until we get there.

Chapter Five

Arthur closed his eyes and took a few, much needed, deep breaths in order to calm down and regain the breath he lost while screaming nonsensical obscenities at the clock on his stove. While he was doing so, Alice took it upon herself to investigate the mess made by the dropped mug. Little and big pieces of shattered blue porcelain covered the kitchen floor. In the middle of the mess, where the cup had come into contact with the floor, cracks ran through the tile. Almost directly in the middle of the kitchen, there would be no way for Arthur to repair or replace the tile without redoing the whole floor and there was no way he would want to do that, no matter how small the room was. Alice decided that she had no interest in staying to see the second fit of anger Arthur was sure to suffer from when he saw his ruined floor and shattered, favorite mug and the somewhat overweight Scottish fold scampered off. Perhaps after a nap she would feel more prepared to comfort her human.

As Alice left the room, she slid a piece of the broken cup out of her way. The noise reminded Arthur that in his shocked and angry state, he dropped a mug on the ground. Using the same mug almost every morning for tea, Arthur had a horrible sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach when he thought of what cup might, most likely, be spread across his floor in millions of irreparable pieces.

"Please let this be a bloody dream." Arthur whispered to himself as he sunk to his knees and gingerly picked up the biggest pieces off the floor. Dark blue and white colors looked back at him; fragmented remains of his favorite TARDIS mug. The Englishman almost wanted to cry. Tears of anguish to mourn the loss of his favorite _Doctor Who_ memorabilia as well as tears of frustration of how his life was already falling to pieces-literally-and it was still morning. Twenty minutes later, Arthur placed the most salvageable pieces of the mug on the kitchen counter and stepped over the rest of the mess. He had concluded that, since this obviously wasn't a dream, he would take a shower and get dressed like he wasn't almost six hours behind schedule. Hopefully that dash of normalcy would calm him down enough to clean up the rest of the mess.

The six and a half minute shower was refreshing and Arthur felt a bit better about facing the rest of his day once he was dressed. Still, coming back to the kitchen, Arthur tactfully avoided the mess and made tea without taking a single glance towards it. Along with his tea, Arthur made a few, small cucumber sandwiches and filled a bowl with fresh raspberries and blackberries. He took his lunch to his rarely used "dining room" table. The small table sat four. Its table cloth matched the upholstery on the seats of the chairs and a delicate ceiling light hung over it, giving the area a small glow when it was on. It couldn't really be called a dining room as it was more of just a secluded little area, branched off his living room. Still it was a nicely decorated area that would be ideal if he ever had company over for dinner and it was the perfect place for Arthur to sit when he needed a moment to recollect and relax. A large window gave Arthur a beautiful view of the sprawling horizon next to his apartment complex. When the sun set, the beautiful pink and orange colors seeped in through the glass and gave Arthur's flat a warm, rosy glow.

Just as Arthur finished up his lunch, Alice showed up once more. She hopped into the chair next to Arthur and gave him a quizzical look as if she truly wondered if he was alright.

"I was being melodramatic. So I slept in a little. No need to act as if the world is ending." Arthur replied, surprised by the almost worried look in his feline's green eyes. Eyes that normally shown back at him with a glint that told him he shouldn't be a baby over the little things. Alice had gotten him through hell, truly knew him at his worst. On his bad days, she was always there to comfort him but remind him that he was also being completely ridiculous.

Arthur never could have suspected that Alice could sense just how far Arthur's life would spiral out of his control and into big enough mess that she wouldn't be able to pull him out of it all on her own.

* * *

Francis was walking past the open doors of his balcony around three thirty, Saturday afternoon when he saw Arthur taking a casual walk down the path. The blonde's army-green coat was open over his tan jumper. His dark slacks fell over casual brown shoes. It was possibly the most casual outfit Francis had ever seen the Englishman in. Putting down the dish he was drying and throwing the drying towel over his shoulder, Francis stepped onto the balcony. Arthur's back was to him now, but he couldn't resist.

"Arthur!" Francis called, leaning over the railing and smiling when the blonde turned to see who called him. "_Bonjour_."

There was a pause but finally, Arthur turned towards Francis fully and took a few steps back towards his balcony.

"Afternoon, Francis."

Francis wondered to himself how inappropriate it would be for him to take a moment and celebrate the fact that Arthur was suddenly giving the Frenchman his attention.

"I missed you this morning, _mon ami_." Francis called down, deciding it would be in everyone's best interest if he kept his excitement to himself. "We didn't get to have our usual morning banter."

Arthur rolled his eyes. The late afternoon sun caught the olive green color and made it shine brighter. Oh what Francis would give to be closer to the Englishman. To look deep into his olive-green eyes until he could pick out each individual color that made them up.

"I was preoccupied this morning Francis. I'm sorry some other poor sap had to reject your marriage proposal. I promise I'll be here on Monday to make up for it." Arthur's tone was mocking but Francis knew the message was sincere. The two of them never saw each other on Sundays, unfortunately for Francis, thanks to the fact that Francis worked Sunday mornings and Arthur went to church in the morning.

"_Chérie_, those proposals are for you and you alone. I won't ask another soul for their hand in marriage until you finally say yes and once you do that, I won't need to ask anyone else." Francis replied with a teasing smile. It was true though, Francis had only ever asked someone other than Arthur to marry him once. At the time, both he and the girl were foolishly young and before she had any real time to think over his proposal, she fought and lost her last battle. It was probably for the best Francis told himself. He would have ruined her even more than her illness already had.

"Well you had better start asking someone else you git because I'm certainly not marrying you!" Arthur yelled up. There was a glint in his eyes that told Francis he had got him this time. Arthur had fallen for the bait and he could keep him there, under his balcony, arguing for hours if he wanted to.

"Where are you headed Arthur? You don't normally go anywhere on Saturday afternoons." Francis asked instead of egging on the blonde. If Arthur had somewhere important to be, it'd probably be best for Francis to let him go, even if he didn't want to.

"If you must know, I'm meeting with someone tomorrow for brunch so I'm going to church this afternoon instead." Arthur replied. He seemed a bit suspicious of Francis's behavior. Rarely did the Frenchman not jump at the chance to argue with him.

_Someone? _Le petit lapin_ is meeting with someone?_

"When is church over?" Francis asked, not letting himself be discouraged by Arthur meeting someone. Arthur arched an eyebrow in response.

"Around five o'clock I imagine."

Francis smiled, standing up straight to go back inside.

"Perfect. You'll be just in time for dinner. I'm trying a new recipe. See you at five-thirty, Arthur."

* * *

Arthur's wristwatch read 5:25. A dark maroon door with gold lettering reading '3F' stared back at the blonde Englishman. Already he had been standing in the hallway wondering what ever could have possessed him to actually show up at Francis's apartment after church. Arthur had spent the past four years exchanging five minute arguments with the blonde Frenchman and after one friendly exchange; he suddenly thought he should have dinner with him? Arthur was obviously very sick. So sick in fact that he spent all of mass thinking about the overly friendly Frenchman with his golden curls pulled away from his face in a small pony tail with warm afternoon sunlight giving his tan skin a healthy glow and his devilishly handsome smile.

"I should go right to bed." Arthur told himself, turning on his heel to leave the apartment building and go to his own. "I'm obviously so sick I'm starting to become delusional."

The sound of a door opening behind Arthur froze him in place. Turning around slowly, he saw Francis leaning against the door with a smile on his face. Streaks of flour decorated his forehead and cheeks. His hair was still pulled away from his face and a towel was thrown over his shoulder once more while a pale blue apron, also decorated with left over flour protected his baggy white sweater and faded blue jeans. A long haired white cat stood at his feet, looking up at Arthur with wide blue eyes and a slightly wagging tail.

"Right on time, _chérie_, come in." As Francis opened the door wider, allowing Arthur plenty of space to step through the doorway, Arthur let his mind spin. He saw Francis almost every morning, lazy with sleep and every afternoon he saw him once more, energized and happy. Even if he didn't like to admit it to himself, let alone anyone else, Arthur knew Francis was a very attractive man; but in that moment-in that moment when Arthur could see Francis's tired, proud, genuinely-happy-to-see-him smile up close. When he could reach out and swipe off some flour from Francis's, most likely very soft to the touch, cheek. Hell would have to freeze over, or burn according to Dante Alighieri, before Arthur could deny _just_ how attracted Francis was.

"We're having chicken fricassee." Francis explained to Arthur, unaware of the thoughts flying through the Englishman's head in that moment, as he shut his apartment's door. Turning to his guest who was taking in the layout of Francis's apartment, Francis reached up to gently peel Arthur's light weight coat from his shoulders. The brush of Francis's fingertips against his neck made Arthur jump but he didn't say anything as the Frenchman hung up his coat on his coat rack next to the door. "I hope that's alright with you."

"I guess I'll be able to choke down some of your silly French food for one night." Arthur replied, slipping out of his shoes and leaving them next to the pair Francis had on the welcome mat. When he looked back up, Francis was looking at him closely. Arthur opened his mouth to say something when Francis reached out and brushed some hair away from his face. A bit of a smirk replaced the genuine smile Francis had.

"Funny, I always imagined you'd be taller up close."

Despite the blush heating up Arthur's face, he pushed Francis's hand away and glared at him.

"Funny, I always imagined you'd look better up close. I was wrong. You're still just an ugly frog." Arthur shot back. Perhaps Hell didn't have to change temperatures for Arthur to deny his attraction to Francis; the said Frenchman just had to open his mouth. "Besides you git, we're the same damn height."

Francis only laughed and turned to lead Arthur through his living room.

Arthur stopped about half way through Francis's large apartment and kneeled down to give some attention to the feline that had been walking next to him the whole time.

"Hello there." Arthur greeted quietly, scratching the elegant feline under her chin. He smiled a bit when he instantly heard a loud purr come from her. Alice's purr was so quiet you almost had to lay your head against her to hear it.

"Françoise." Francis said, surprising Arthur. He looked up to see the Frenchman watching him pet the very content cat. "That's her name."

"It's nice to meet you Françoise." Arthur said, turning back to the cat who closed her eyes contently and nuzzled her head into the palm of his hand.

"You like cats?" Francis asked, watching the two interact. He was pleased to see Arthur getting on so well with Françoise. The thought that Arthur might not like cats, or that he might be allergic, hadn't even crossed his mind until that point. A warm smile lit up Arthur's face as he stood up once more.

"I love them really. She's beautiful." Françoise seemed to know she was being complimented and with a very pleased look on her face she left the two men in peace.

"Thank you. Do have one? A cat?" The two men continued to make their way through Francis's apartment.

"I do. An old, grumpy Scottish fold." Arthur laughed. "She's-"

Words died in Arthur's throat as Francis led them to his balcony. It was strange, seeing the balcony from a different perspective. Strange and breathtaking. A table set for two was in the middle of the balcony. A vase of red roses sat in the middle, their petals the same shade as the table cloth beneath them. A tall white candle was on either side of the vase. Two chairs were placed on the ends of the table, in front of perfectly set dinner places. It was elegant and perfect.

"I hope this isn't too strange for you, Arthur." Francis said as he stepped forward and pulled a chair away from the table and inviting Arthur to sit down. "After growing up in France, I can't bring myself to leave the table undressed for meals." Arthur could only nod wordlessly as he sat down and Francis pushed his chair back in. "Alright. I will be right back with dinner."

Francis disappeared into the apartment, leaving Arthur to his awe. Arthur took a deep breath and reached for the already filled water glass. The cool perspiration on the outside of the cup felt nice against his warm skin as he took a big gulp of the ice cold liquid. Next to where the water glass had been place sat a tall wine glass, filled with what he could only assume was white wine.

"I hope you don't mind white wine." Francis said as he came back onto the balcony, confirming Arthur's assumptions. "I myself prefer red but white was more fitting for the meal." The Frenchman laid Arthur's dinner plate atop the service plate and then did the same with his own.

"_Bon appétit,_ Arthur."

* * *

Francis walked Arthur to the door after their meal; though it was actually a good few hours since they had actually had their meal. After a small serving of frozen yogurt and fresh fruit, the two men sat out on the balcony chatting. Sometime they were arguing, sometimes-mostly on Francis's part-they were flirting, but they stayed out there talking like they were old friends until the sun set, the stars came out, and it finally just got too cold for the two of them to stay out there without coats on.

"I-Thank you." Arthur stopped outside Francis's door and he could feel himself almost smiling. "Thank you for dinner. It actually was really fantastic, for a French thing." Arthur teased Francis a bit. Francis almost smiled back.

"Thank you Arthur. I'm glad even someone like you, who most likely doesn't even have any functioning taste buds left, could enjoy it." Francis teased back. In the past few hours he had heard a few horror stories of Arthur's cooking attempts.

"Per-Perhaps we can do this again sometime." Arthur said finally, dropping the volume of his voice considerably. "It was nice."

"I hope we can." Francis agreed. The Frenchman leaned outside his apartment suddenly and placed a butterfly-light kiss on both of Arthur's cheeks. "Good night, _le petit lapin_. I look forward to seeing you on Monday."

Arthur could only stutter back a good-bye and stumble away from Francis's flat, wondering what was wrong with the muscles in his face and why he couldn't stop smiling.

Devon: Seriously I swear to you there actually wasn't supposed to be any fluff in this chapter. France wasn't even supposed to be in this chapter.

Replies to the Reviewers:

First of all, thank you all for reviewing:

Now then.

**kfjkaskm**: Oh thank you 3 I'm so glad. I'm honored that you think it deserves more tha what it already has. :) Yay, I'm glad they're in character. I plan to continue. Thank you again. :3

**greeneyedAlice91**: (I thought it might. So sorry to hear about that.) Yay :3 Haha well the wait won't be much longer. :)

**Loca**: Thank you. And I'm glad it makes you happy. :)

**kaleighbugg**: Really? How cool! I'm glad.

**Francey-pants98**: Oh thank goodness. Well the brunch is next chapter and Francis must have known you were looking forward to more of him because he forced his way into this chapter. x3

**Kyuubigurl74**: What's terribly entertaining about your comment is that you're probably the only person in the world to describe me as friendly. x3 Haha thank you.

**Sora Resi**: Well I tried. How's this for more? It is a longer chapter. :)


	6. Chapter 6

Devon: I FUCKING FINISHED IT OH MY GOSH YOU GUYS ON TOP OF HAVING LIKE NO FUCKING TIME ON TO MYSELF I WAS HIT WITH LIKE THE WORST POSSIBLE CASE OF WRITERS BLOCK AND THIS WAS SO FUCKING DIFICULT TO FINISHED AND I AM SO SO SO SORRY THAT IT TOOK SO LONG AND I HOPE YOU'RE ALL STILL HERE BECAUSE I LOVE YOU ALL AND I TRIED REALLY HARD TO FINISH THIS BEFORE NOW I SWEAR.

Warning: The author of this fanfiction is currently functioning on more caffine than sleep. And there's a little almost sexy scene at the beginning. Lastly, there's a big dose of Ameripan thrown in there somewhere because yeah this is the chapter with the brunch sort of.

Discalimer: I do not own _Hetalia _or the song _I am the Walrus_ by The Beatles

Rating: M. I think by now you guys know why.

Every Day  
France (Francis) x England (Arthur)/America (Alfred) x Japan (Kiku)/Yes there will be more but I'll save those until we get there.

Chapter Six

Francis's fingertips were rougher than Arthur thought they would be and their gentle touches tickled his sensitive sides. He tried to squirm away from the feeling but he was trapped beneath the Frenchman currently placing gentle kisses along his jaw and had no way to escape.

"Arthur, relax." Francis whispered to him, raising his hands to cup Arthur's flushed face. The Frenchman gave Arthur a teasing smile before he lowered his head to deliver a searing kiss to Arthur's parted lips.

Arthur felt himself gasp at the contact. His whole body arched into the kiss and his sweaty hands released the disheveled comforter from their death grip in order to knot themselves in Francis' loose curls.

Eventually the kiss ended with the two of them parting for air. There was still a smile on Francis's face as he lowered his head and placed a breathless peck on Arthur's lips, nose, and forehead. He bent his head lower still to whisper into Arthur's ear:

"Man, you been a naughty boy, you let your face grow long. I am the eggman, they are the eggman. I am the walrus, goo goo g'joob."

That morning, Arthur decided it would be a good idea to stop leaving his radio alarm clock on, on Sunday mornings.

Well aware of the fact that there was no way he'd get back to sleep with that image in his head, Arthur rolled out of bed and started the day with much less enthusiasm that he usually did. He couldn't quite figure out if it was thanks to the disturbing awakening or the looming brunch with Alfred. Most likely, this was the cause of the urge Arthur had to put off taking his morning shower for as long as he could. Unfortunately for Arthur, he hated to break from his uniform life and after two days of almost-chaos, Arthur desperately needed that dose of normalcy.

That morning, Arthur's usual six and a half minute shower seemed dreadfully long. Try as he might, Arthur couldn't help but imagine another presence in the shower with him. Calloused fingers replacing the trailing water droplets and gentle bites standing in for the harsh spray. Having dinner with Francis the night before was obviously a very bad idea for Arthur. It had been so long since he had anything even resembling romantic interaction with another human being that his mind was running far ahead of him. Thankfully his heart wasn't nearly as foolish.

Three soft knocks sounded on Arthur's door just as he was putting his tooth brush away. Checking to make sure everything was in place (his shirt was tucked in completely, his hair was as controlled as it could be, his shoes were on the right feet and matching, he had the same colored socks on) Arthur opened the door with a forced smile. Matthew stood alone on the other side. His hands were tucked into the front pocket of his favorite, overly-large, red sweatshirt and his faded jeans, that were obviously too big for the lean Canadian man, covered most of the top of his red high-tops.

"This brings back memories." Arthur greeted, waving a hand in Matthew's direction. Arthur hadn't seen the blonde dressed so casually since the last time he had spent a weekend with Matthew and Alfred in high school.

"I figured nothing was wrong with dressing casual today." Matthew reached up to readjust his glasses and brush some of his long hair out of his face. He seemed a bit different to Arthur, than he was on Saturday morning, but the Brit couldn't put his finger on what had changed other than his clothes. "A-Are you ready to go?"

"Right. Let me just grab my keys." Arthur replied, remembering that they _were_ supposed to be going somewhere. Quickly he found his coat and checked to make sure his apartment keys and wallet were in the pocket. Everything in order, Arthur allowed Matthew to lead him into the hall and shut and lock the door behind them.

"I-I thought I'd drive us there and j-just bring you back after." Matthew explained as the two made their way down the stairs of Arthur's apartment building away from flat 3E and towards the lobby.

"That sounds fine, Matthew." Arthur said with a small hum of agreement. Matthew replied with a half-smile.

Outside, Arthur met a strange, rusting vehicle. The red paint was old and faded in places and it didn't even have four matching tires. When Matthew tried to open the passenger door for Arthur, he was forced to wiggle the door handle for a few minutes before the creaking door finally popped open. A slight blush dyed Matthew's cheeks as he gestured for Arthur to get in.

"What is this?" Arthur muttered to himself, sliding into the passenger seat. The leather was ripped and worn. Of course, Matthew overheard the comment and his blush darkened.

"L-lada. It's called a Lada. I know it seems pr-pretty rough but it's a good car. Really." Matthew shut the door firmly and walked around to the driver's side. Arthur winced as if he had actually been hit by the door. He felt much safer in his little Nissan Micra and even he had to admit that the poor vehicle was starting to deteriorate but still, he hadn't meant to embarrass or offend Matthew with his last comment.

"I'm sorry Matthew," Arthur apologized once the Canadian was in the car and starting it up. "I didn't mean anything by that comment, I just have never seen one of…these before." Once more a half-smile ghosted over Matthew's pale features.

"D-don't worry Arthur, I'm not insulted. I-I know it looks pretty b-bad on the outside but it's a reliable car."

The rest of the ten minute car ride passed in surprisingly comfortable silence. Arthur was rather thankful for the time to himself as he figured he would need a few minutes extra to prepare himself to spend an extended amount of time with Alfred. On top of that, he hoped he could completely banish from his mind the dream he had been experiencing before they reached the restaurant. If his radio hadn't blared The Beatles stream of consciousness song _I am the Walrus_ earlier that morning, effectively killing any arousal Arthur may have had in the dream or out of it, he feared exactly how far the runaway fantasy would have gone. Perhaps he should try dating again, obviously if Alfred was getting married at twenty-one it couldn't be _too_ hard. Surely a few dates with a nice…girl would get his mind of off his unfortunately extremely handsome male neighbor.

"It's just been too long."

"What was that?" Arthur looked up from his hands where he had been focusing most of his attention to see Matthew looking at him curiously from behind his thin glasses. Finally Arthur realized he had said his last thought out loud and couldn't help but wonder briefly what else he had said during the drive that Matthew had either politely ignored or simply didn't hear.

"Oh it was nothing. I was merely talking to myself." Arthur reassured Matthew quickly. The blonde didn't seem to believe him but he didn't push the matter, putting the sputtering car into park and turning off its engine.

"Well we're here."

Arthur looked away from his companion to the building in front of them. Large front windows were on the left half of the front of the building. Through the windows, Arthur could see posters, records, guitars, and countless pictures with scribbles he could only assume were signatures scrawled across them. Barely an inch of the visible walls were bare. The booths and bar stools had matching upholstery of the shiny red variety. He looked over at Matthew with a somewhat confused expression on his face and the Canadian man laughed, opening his door to get out of the vehicle.

"It's like an old fifty's diner. It's Alfred's favorite." Arthur wasn't so sure how comfortable he felt going into a place honored as "Alfred's favorite", knowing the American's diet when they were growing up, but he swallowed (most) of his fears and joined Matthew outside. The two men stood outside the building for a few minutes waiting for Arthur to collect himself one last time.

"R-Ready?"

Arthur sighed, stepping forward and opening the door for Matthew.

"I'm as ready as I ever bloody will be I suppose."

Matthew smiled to himself as the two went into the diner.

A young hostess with wavy brown hair in a high pony tail greeted them at the door with a friendly smile. Matthew and Arthur took a good look around the place and realized they had beat Alfred and Kiku there. So Matthew explained to the hostess that two more would be joining them. The young woman came around the side of the hostess stand with four menus in her hands and led them to their seat. A pink scarf was tied around her neck and her white, short sleeved blouse was tucked into the high waist band of her pink poodle skirt. If that part of the ensemble didn't throw Arthur through a loop when he first laid eyes on it, her pink, white, and black, old-fashioned roller skates did.

The table she presented to them was a large booth with a clear view of the front windows. She left them with the menus and promises that their waitress would be with them in a few minutes. Matthew and Arthur had only been seated for a minute when Arthur looked up from his menu to see Alfred's familiar silver S7 pulling into one of the parking spaces directly in front of the building. Alfred climbed out of the driver's side and stretched. He wore a pale blue button up shirt tucked into his black slacks but the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and the first few buttons were left open. The shade reminded Arthur of the apron Francis wore the previous night. Arthur shook his head to get rid of the thought.

Alfred shut his car door and quickly jogged around the back of the vehicle in order to open the passenger door for his fiancé. The wind blew back his golden bangs and for a second, the thought that he need a haircut entered Arthur's mind but he pushed the thought away in exchange for surprise caused by Alfred's chivalrous act. Arthur acting like a worrisome mother hen over Alfred would only make things worse, bring back more of the terrible memories from high school. He just needed to keep the same "indifferent" cool he usually kept around Alfred nowadays.

Alfred's fiancé stepped out of the car to reveal that he was significantly shorter than the blonde and obviously embarrassed by Alfred's need to open the door for him. Arthur chewed on his bottom lip nervously as he studied the short, dark haired man half-heartedly arguing with the smiling blonde towering over him. As the two of them were standing there, a breeze ruffled their hair and Alfred leaned over, reaching into the car and pulled out his old bomber jacket.

Arthur looked over at Matthew with an expression that clearly showed how ridiculous he thought it was for the blonde to _still_ have the jacket after all these years. Matthew laughed in response.

Alfred draped the large coat over the narrow shoulders of his fiancé and Arthur could see the blush dye his face from where he was seated. Alfred's smile only grew and without a second thought cupped his fiancé's face with both of his hands and kissed him squarely on the mouth. Arthur felt a bit embarrassed at seeing the open display of affection and turned away from the window. Matthew was looking down at his menu with a small smile on his face.

"They're always like that." He said, mostly for Arthur's benefit.

A few moments later, Alfred and his fiancé joined them. Matthew stood up and moved away from the table, guesting for the two of them to sit together in the booth he had been occupying, across from Arthur. Arthur stood up shortly after as Alfred pulled Matthew into what looked quite a bit like a rib-crushing hug. Once released from his brother's choking grasp, Matthew gave a quick, light hug to the shorter dark haired man.

Arthur cleared his throat "Good morning, Alfred." It was the first time in a long time he started any type of conversation between the two of them. Alfred studied his face for a few tense seconds before he smiled and pulled Arthur into a hug as bone shattering as the one he bestowed upon Matthew. Arthur wasn't completely sure what he should do with his arms a first but slowly he reached up and returned the hug. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad if the two of them just forgot about the fight entirely and returned to the way things were before.

Once Alfred released Arthur from his hug, He turned to his fiancé who gave the two of them a small smile.

"Arthur, this is-"

"Kiku Honda." Arthur interjected. Kiku gave Arthur a small smile, bowing in his usual formal greeting.

"Kirkland-san, it is nice to see you again."

Alfred and Matthew exchanged a look that clearly showed neither of them had expected Arthur and Kiku to know each other.

"Quite a small world, isn't it?" Arthur said pleasantly, thinking back to Friday afternoon when Kiku had informed him of his engagement and then of Saturday and the surprise he felt when he heard Alfred was going to marry someone named "Kiku". "I didn't believe Matthew when he said Alfred was marrying someone named Kiku and yet here you are." Arthur admitted.

"Alfred-sa-Alfred told me we would be meeting someone but I hadn't expected you." Kiku replied.

Finally, Alfred recovered from his surprise.

"You guys know each other?"

Kiku was the first to respond.

"Alfred-sa-Alfred you picked me up from Kirkland-san's office on Friday." Kiku tried to remind the blonde. It took Alfred a few minutes to remember what the small Japanese man was talking about but finally it clicked and the three with him could see realization dawn on the blonde.

"That's how you two know each other?"

Arthur chose to ignore Alfred's overreaction to turn to Matthew.

"I'm an auditor. Mr. Honda is one of my clients."

Matthew gave an understanding nod and then gestured to the booth.

"S-should we sit and stop making a scene?"

Devon: Okay. So how was that? I know they haven't eaten yet or really talked about the wedding or anything and Francis wasn't in the chapter for some _real_ FrUk-fluff but I felt the need to finish the chapter where I did instead of possibly making the wait a day or more longer. I'm sorry. I'll try to make it up to you all with the next one.

Replies to the Reviewers:

First of all, thank you all for reviewing:

Now then.

**Angleterre97: **I'm so happy to hear that! :) Thank you.

**Katoryu: **Haha maybe that will happen ;3. I'm glad you're enjoying it! :) Well hopefully you're not too young ;3

**Sora Resi: **:) Okay I'm glad! (I think this chapter is pretty close to the same length...right?)

**Hero: **Oh thank you :3

**greeneyedAlice91: **Oh thank you! :) I have to admit, I really love writing about Arthur and Alice. x3 Ah, I'm glad it was so cute! Haha I guess I did kind of use Francis's jealousy about the brunch to my advantage and got a nice fluffy scene out of it. ;3

**Royal Puppet Master: **Thank you. I'm glad you decided to read as well :) I'm sorry the next update took so long.

**Consuming Endless Nightmare: **I don't even know how to respond to all you said. Just thank you so much :) And I really did try to update quickly. It was just so unbelievably hard.

**Francey-pants98: **I'm glad! :) And yes, it really is. x3

**Kyuubigurl74: **Thank you. :3 Haha that is rather entertaining.


	7. Chapter 7

Devon: Have I told you guys how much I fucking love all of you? Because you're the best. Seriously. I was out of town for three days and just bam my whole damn schedule was fucked up to the highest degree. I never would have put off finishing this chapter like I did (in exchange for those silly things like eating and sleeping and school work) had I realized just how long it had been since I updated.

Warning: Alright, a rather big dose of Ameripan in this chapter and I'm half asleep right now so I doubt the revising and editing I was supposed to be doing actually helped.

Discalimer: *wistful sigh*

Rating: M. I think this is a pretty clean chapter.

Every Day France (Francis) x England (Arthur)/America (Alfred) x Japan (Kiku)/Yes there will be more but I'll save those until we get there.

Chapter Seven

Their waitress was a sunny teenager, dressed identically to the hostess other than the blue color in her skirt, scarf, and roller skates where the hostess wore pink. Her eyes matched her skirt and her blonde curls were half-heartedly restrained in a sloppy bun.

She took their drink orders, two coffees, two teas, and four waters. When she brought the drinks back, a few minutes later, she brought along with her a small notebook to jot down their food orders in. She left them with the promise that their breakfast would be there shortly.

For the life of him, Arthur couldn't remember her name.

"No hamburger for breakfast, Alfred?" Arthur heard the words spoken in his own voice but he couldn't honestly believe they had come from his mouth. He could feel Matthew's wide, surprised gaze on him as he tried to keep a calm expression on his face. Across the table, Alfred held his water glass to his mouth for a few tense moments, not taking a drink or putting the cup down. Kiku looked in between Arthur and Alfred, obviously not sure what was taking place between the two of them. Finally, Alfred placed his water glass back on the table and barked out a short, almost embarrassed laugh.

"Actually, as much as I'd like to, between Kiku worrying about my health and everything I 'm learning and seeing in med school, I just can't bring myself to do that anymore. Not that I don't still eat an unhealthy amount of them." Alfred explained.

Arthur needed a couple minutes to actually let those words churn themselves through his mind a few times. _Med school? Fucking med school?_

"You're a…med student?" Arthur had trouble forcing the words out of his parched throat.

Kiku took a quiet sip of his steaming tea. Matthew shifted his weight. Alfred reclined back in his seat and nodded.

"I'd like to become a pediatric surgeon one day."

"Th-That's great Alfred. Really great. I'm…just surprised." Arthur stuttered in reply, taking a drink of his water and wiping his brow with his napkin. Alfred smirked.

"What, didn't think I had it in me?"

_No._

"No, that's not it Alfred." _Not entirely_. "But…what happened to wanting to be a police officer or a fireman or…a superhero?" Matthew and Kiku both did terrible jobs of hiding their smiles at Arthur's question whereas Alfred just rolled his eyes.

"Well I'm actually a volunteer firefighter right now. And realistically, a doctor, a firefighter, jobs like that are probably as close as I'm going to get to being a superhero." Alfred admitted, a light blush actually dyeing his tan cheeks. "And since children are the only ones who still 'believe' in superheroes, or so I've been told, I figured why not cater to them and actually be someone's hero?"

Arthur let Alfred's admission float around in his mind for a while. It was a surprisingly mature change in Alfred from what Arthur was used to. And Arthur supposed it was almost a bit…inspiring.

"I'm impressed Alfred." Arthur admitted, refraining from smiling when he saw Alfred perk up a bit with pride. _Impressed and a bit proud of you._

Oh that uplifting note, their food arrived.

Conversation grew quite limited once the four started eating and Arthur had to reluctantly admit that he could understand why the small diner was Alfred's favorite.

Arthur could almost go as far as to call the whole experience, relaxing, until Matthew dropped a large bite of pancake, oozing maple syrup, right into his lap and then proceeded to flip over the rest of his plate and knock his water glass to the floor. His mouth was hanging open and his gaze was fixed on the window on the side of the restaurant. Arthur honestly couldn't determine if Matthew was more bothered by the mess or whatever the hell he was starting at.

"Mattie are you okay?" Alfred demanded, hoping up and grabbing some spare napkins from the little metal holder next to him. Matthew stood up as well, much slower than his brother, and took the offered napkins, mopping up the syrupy mess on his clothes first before moving on to the mess on the table. Arthur waved over their waitress in order to get some actual towels to clean up the majority of the mess and Kiku tried to right the toppled plate of food and water glass without making an even bigger mess.

The door opened accompanied by loud laughter Arthur was positive would be impossible to forget after hearing it even once. Their attention was drawn to the two customers walking through the door thanks to the laugh. The man was very tall, but the real attention getter would have to be his pale skin, silvery blonde hair, and red eyes. A notably shorter brunette woman had her arm threaded through his, smiling up at the man as he told a story with animated arm movements and his identifying laugh.

"Is that…Gilbert?" Alfred asked after studying the couple for a few seconds. Arthur vaguely remembered the name Gilbert. It was associated with a rather obnoxious albino who was a few years ahead of him in high school. For whatever reason, he had the feeling the Gilbert he was thinking of claimed to be "Prussian" instead of "German". If Arthur remembered correctly…Gilbert was a casual friend of Alfred and Matthew and had a younger brother about the same age as them.

When the couple stopped in front of the hostess and requested a table for two, it was painfully easy to hear his German accent over the faint noise of a few other customers. Perhaps it was the same Gilbert.

"That _is_ Gilbert." Alfred agreed, waving when the pale man turned towards them. Recognizing Alfred, Gilbert waved back with a wide smile, winking at Kiku, and nodding politely at Arthur. However, when his peculiarly colored eyes stopped on Matthew, they widened. He instantly turned back to the woman looking past him to smile at the table and give a small, friendly wave. His movement was too quick, too unnatural for them to be able to brush it off as he not seeing Matthew as some people had a habit of. Matthew quickly sat back down, avoiding anyone's gaze in exchange for pushing around the few bits of his breakfast left around the plate. One by one the rest of the table sat down, each looking at Matthew with a somewhat surprised expression. Matthew obviously wished they would all go back to their meals and ignore him.

"Is Gilbert with that Hungarian girl? Elizabeth or something?" Arthur asked, clearing his throat. A tense silence had suddenly fallen over their table. Everyone's attention had been drawn to Matthew and no one was eating or saying anything.

"Elizaveta." Kiku confirmed with a slight nod of his head. "T-They're good friends."

"I hope that's all they are. Looks to me that they're a little more friendly than _friends _and I could have sworn she married some other German guy." Alfred muttered.

"Roderich?" Arthur asked, arching an eyebrow. "He's Austrian." Alfred rolled his eyes and maturely stuck out his tongue. Arthur refrained from reaching over and smacking him.

This comfortable banter between the two of them seemed to restore some normalcy to the table and though Matthew would check over his shoulder at random intervals, they all finished breakfast without any other disasters.

Once they were all done eating and the dirty dishes, minus their water glasses and coffee/tea mugs which were simply refilled, had been cleared away it was time for them to get the whole point of the brunch.

Alfred exchanged a look with Kiku, and then Matthew, and then finally he looked Arthur in the eye.

"So...Kiku and I are getting married." Alfred said matter of factly. "On September eight."

Arthur nodded. Alfred sighed.

"The wedding itself isn't going to be a big deal, though we are having your usual wedding reception to celebrate with everybody. But for the actual wedding, it's just going to take place in the court house. Mattie's going to be my witness and Yao, Kiku's older brother, is planning to be his." Alfred took a deep breath and then a drink of his water before continuing. "All we really need there are the witnesses. And the judge. And us of course. But we're still having a few close friends and family members and it would mean…it would mean a lot to us-to me-Arthur, if you were there two."

Alfred shifted nervously in his seat. Kiku, surprising Alfred the most, reached over and held the blonde's hand to calm him down. The two exchanged a smile.

In the moment, Arthur knew he had never seen Alfred look at anyone with that kind of pure, raw love and happiness he looked at Kiku with and Alfred had always been an open book when it came to emotions. As for Kiku Honda, Arthur had only known him a few years and even then it was in a strictly work environment. Despite that, it was pretty obvious to Arthur that Kiku felt the same way about Alfred that Alfred felt about him.

It was pretty clear that Kiku didn't know what had happened between Alfred and Arthur, or how close the two of them had been when they were younger. And if his blush was anything to go by, Kiku really didn't like the PDA Alfred seemed to have no problem flaunting. Yet he pushed those worries away to be able to give Alfred just a small bit of comfort in this situation. As much as he'd hate to admit it, Arthur felt a pang of jealousy towards the happy couple.

Matthew looked in between the happy couple and Arthur and he smiled a bit too. His years of being a wallflower had given him impeccable people reading skills and it didn't take long for him to it figure out. Alfred had put the fight between he and Arthur almost completely behind him and even though Arthur had a ways to go, he was still happy for Alfred in this moment.

"Thank you for the invitation, Alfred. I'd love to be at your wedding."

* * *

Of course then came time for them to pay the bill.

Alfred and Arthur both had their wallets out, ready to pay when they realized that the other was doing the exact same thing.

"Arthur, put your wallet away. There's no reason for you to pay." Alfred told the Brit with an unnervingly calm tone of voice. Arthur sent the American a strange look.

"Alfred, don't be ridiculous. You're a med student. You really shouldn't be going around buying people breakfast." Arthur argued back. Alfred rolled his eyes.

"Arthur just take a look outside at that car. Do I really seem like I'm suffering, med school or not?"

"Well no. And I still don't bloody well understand how that is but that doesn't mean you can go around throwing your money away nilly-willy!"

Like all reasonable adults, the two attempted to settle their differences with a silent "glare-off". Meanwhile, Kiku had managed to get the waitress's attention and slip her a small, brightly colored plastic card. She came back a few minutes later and had him sign off a rectangular piece of glossy paper and she returned his card to him. Matthew fished out of his pocket, his worn wallet and pulled out money for the tip. He then cleared his throat to get the attention of the two stubborn blondes at the table. They had gotten this far without blood being shed and he'd really like to keep it that way.

"Come on, let's go." Matthew beckoned, standing up and stretching. Arthur noticed that he tried to avoid looking over to see Glibert and Elizaveta but didn't seem to do such a good job.

"We're leaving?" Alfred honestly sounded so sad and childish in that moment, Arthur almost wanted to stay.

"Yes Alfred, come on."

Alfred looked between the standing Matthew, Kiku who was getting up from where he was sitting, and then at the table where the only things left were their drinking glasses and the waitress's tip.

"Kiku! Mattie! Why would you do that?"

Matthew wouldn't even let his brother finish his complaints, reaching over and pulling the obnoxious blonde out of the booth.

"Come on Alfred, what's done is done, let's go."

Matthew pushed Alfred towards the door, letting Kiku take his hand and lead him the rest of the way out of the diner, nodding solemnly as Alfred complained about what the two of them did while he and Arthur were ah…deciding who would pay.

"Let me pay you back." Arthur offered when Matthew looked back at him, waiting for the Brit to be ready to leave.

"Nonsense. Kiku wouldn't even want to money back."

Arthur followed Matthew outside the diner and he saw, though he didn't hear, Alfred and Kiku arguing about something and yet both of them were smiling. And the sun was shining, and he didn't worry about fighting with Alfred, and Matthew felt comfortable with him still.

And happy memories of last night's dinner where he and Francis argued while smiling and then just talked while smiling for hours upon hours out on Francis's balcony came back to him and Arthur wasn't even bothered by how happy the memories made him in that moment.

Perhaps a chaotic day everyone in a while is a blessing.

Devon: Hm...perhaps not my best ending. *shrugs* Well they didn't talk too much about the wedding actually but now that Arthur has his official invite it'll show up more and Francis will be back next chapter :3 Well now, _au revoir_ until next time. I need to go sleep so I can wake up early and pretend like I wrote my Romeo and Juliet script when I was finishing this instead of just a few hours before filming. x3 (P.S. I have an extended weekend so I am promising you guys the next chapter in less than seven days because this last wait was ridiculous).

Replies to the Reviewers:

First of all, thank you all for reviewing:

Now then.

**likku The Eyebrow Master -**I'm glad you like it and thank you :3

**Sora Resi - **Bless your heart you have no idea how much better that makes me feel about that last chapter.

**Salut-chan - **I'm so glad :3 Haha yes it must be!

**greeneyedAlice91 - **Yay, you laughed~ Yes, poor Arthur had to finally realize who Al was marrying and then it just seemed fitting for Al to be thrown by the idea of Arthur and Kiku knowing each other x3

**Sasunaru N Ichihitsu - **Aww thank you darling :3

**Katoryu - **Oh I'm glad it made you laugh! :3 Writer's block is the worst, isn't it? Damn thing. Oh alright. Well don't worry about sounding "too old" I can go from sounding like a five year old to somebody's mother at the drop of a hat. :)

**widgetgold3301 - **(I'm sorry I can't give you too much canapan in this story) But I promise I won't give up on it and it makes me really happy to see just how much you want me to continue. :3

**Royal Puppet Master - **Oh thank you :3

**argentroses - **I'm glad you're enjoying it. And yeah, I don't know if I didn't that on purpose when I started the story but now I just like the simple story line of Arthur going through life and slowly falling in love with this neighbor x3 I will try to keep the banter light and fun like it is. And thank you :3

**Shelbydell - (a)** Ah yes, it just too terrible for him to have broken his precious TARDIS mug. x3** (b) **I'm so glad I made people laugh. x3


	8. Chapter 8

Devon: Why do I have this horrible feeling I missed my seven day marker? I really need to stop leaving my house before chapter updates...

Warning: There are a few more relationships beginning to develop in the depths of the story and...I hope this isn't true but Francis might be a tad out of character. I tried to avoid that but something about this chapter felt off...

Disclaimer: I can honestly say, I never would have thought up Hetalia all by myself, there is no way I could own it.

Rating: M. Some swearing but this chapter's pretty clean.

Every Day  
France (Francis) x England (Arthur)/America (Alfred) x Japan (Kiku)/Spain (Antonio) x S. Italy or Romano (Lovino)/Yes there will be more but I'll save those until we get there.

Chapter Eight

Once Alfred and Kiku had drove off, their argument resolved and then promptly forgotten, Matthew and Arthur made their way to Matthew's trusty little red Lada. Arthur asked Matthew to drop him off at the supermarket a short distance away from his apartment. He always did his shopping on the weekend. Matthew tried to stay with Arthur, offering to wait until the Brit finished up his shopping and then driving him home so that he didn't have to carry the groceries back on his own but Arthur insisted that he would be fine. He took a shopping trip once and week and since he only needed to provide for himself and Alice, he rarely had to bring back a large amount of groceries.

The two parted after exchanging phone numbers.

Arthur had never been a fan of large crowds or busy places but he didn't mind his weekend shopping trips. The supermarket he favored rarely was busy and there was something relaxing about wandering down the straight, organized aisles.

"I need bread, milk, and…ah meat. Yes, I'll be needing something more for dinner this week I suppose." Arthur sighed, picking up a small bag of dried cat food for Alice. Relaxing and simple, organized and quiet. And yet…there was suddenly something terribly monotonous about the activity. "Two days with company and suddenly I'm lonely?" Arthur shook his head. He could see his chubby little Scottish Fold at home looking up at him with her olive green eyes. She'd think he was being silly.

Arthur turned his cart down the next aisle. A couple was arguing ahead of him, their teenage son sulked next to the father.

"Lasagna noodles," Arthur read aloud quietly, picking up a box of the wavy noodles under the "SALE" sign. "I could make lasagna." Nodding to himself, Arthur places the red box into his cart. He looked back up at the family who had stopped where they were to look at something. The wife's blonde curls reached her shoulders. Shoulders that looked strangely broad upon a second look. Sure enough, despite the small waist and tampered hips the "wife" had, "her" shoulders were broader than those of the brunette man next "her".

"Th-That's probably not that weird. I just haven't been out much." Arthur tried to reassure himself. The blonde reached over and pushed the curly haired brunette who was laughing at something Arthur couldn't imagine. The small, bright, orange shopping basket on his arm swung out as he swayed and bumped into the shorter brunette.

"Oi! Bastard! Watch what you're doing!" The short brunette turned, his face blushing red. A stray curl bounced in front of his face as he whipped his head towards the man who bumped into him.

_I think I may have misjudged who's in front of me._

"_Aye, Lo siento _Lovi!" Small curls bounced around the brunette's tanned face as he turned towards the fuming, shorter man. Arthur stopped his casual stroll down the aisle. There was something familiar about the deep, Spanish accented voice.

Promptly, Arthur turned his cart around and went to a different aisle. On the other side of the store.

Around twenty minutes later, Arthur found himself looking for some tomato sauce for the lasagna. He ended up standing face to face with the curly haired Spanish man.

"Lov-Oh _Hola_. You're not-Ar…Arthur?"

The blonde who had been with the Spaniard and his shorter friend came up from another aisle.

"Antonio, Lovino's waiting for you by the-Arthur?"

The Brit bit his tongue in surprise.

"You know Arthur too, Francis?" Antonio Fernández Carriedo asked, turning to the blonde. Francis kept his eyes pinned on Arthur.

"Um yes. We live in the same apartment complex. Tony, how do _you _know Arthur?" Francis finally turned his blue gaze to his friend.

"Oh…uh…um Where did you say Lovi was?"

"By the front door."

The Spaniard was gone before Francis had enough time to realize he didn't get an answer to his question.

"I um, I should be going." Arthur mumbled, turning his cart away. He could hear quick footsteps following after him.

"Come now Arthur, where's the hurry?"

Francis caught up with the Brit and leaned over a bit to look at Arthur's down cast face.

"_Bonjour?" _

Arthur sighed, lifting his head to look at the Frenchman walking next to him.

"Hello Francis."

The Frenchman smiled at Arthur upon being addressed. Arthur was taken aback by his appearance. He was dressed as casually as Arthur was used to him being but he couldn't say the last time-if ever that-he saw Francis's blonde curls down to frame his face.

"Do you frequent this supermarket?" Francis asked, for whatever reason, making casual conversation with the Brit. Arthur wasn't quite sure he knew how to react to this recent development.

"I suppose you could say that, yes. However, what does it matter if I frequent this specific supermarket or not Francis?" Arthur replied defensively.

"It doesn't really matter Arthur, I was just curious. Is that how you know Tony?"

"Pardon?"

"Well there's a bakery over here that Tony and his cute little Italian boyfriend favor so they tend to visit this supermarket."

"Um…no. I wasn't aware Antonio visited this supermarket."

"How do you know him then?" Francis probed. He was good friends with the Spaniard and he was finally getting closer to Arthur. It couldn't hurt to be curious as to how the two knew each other, could it?

"Well Francis, how do you know Antonio?" Arthur fired back, angrily. Two could play the ridiculous twenty-questions game Francis had prompted. Francis gave a laid back smile and gave no sign of being bothered by Arthur's harsh tone.

"He was the first friend I made in the States."

Arthur licked his lips.

"Oh."

"So," Francis prompted. "How do you know each other?"

"We dated. For a short time. In college." Arthur struggled to get the words out but he knew Francis would never drop the subject.

Francis watched Arthur with wide blue eyes. He honestly couldn't believe his ears. He astonished by the fact that his talkative Spanish friend had never mentioned dating someone who would even vaguely remind Francis of the blonde Brit he had been admiring for the past four years. He also couldn't believe his luck. Francis knew there was no guarantee that Arthur would be anything but a straight arrow. If Arthur had dated Antonio, that banished a few of his bigger worries. Worries he had originally hoped would stay buried until they had a firmer grasp on what their relationship was evolving into.

Francis allowed his imagination to get ahead of him, more so than he usually did, and didn't notice Arthur making his way away from him. In fact, Arthur was halfway through the check-out before Francis pulled himself from his daydream. The Frenchman quickly back tracked a few feet to retrieve his cart from where he left it in order to chase after Arthur the first time. By the time he was checked out, Arthur was out of the store.

_Oh well_, he mused, _it's not as if that was the last time I'll see _le petit lapin. Francis smiled to himself, reassured, and made his way out of the supermarket. A silver and black car waited for him a few rows back. Now, it seemed insane for Francis to have such an elaborate car but at the time of the Bugatti's purchase it was much less ridiculous. He could sell it now, he supposed, for something more reasonable but he had grown attached.

Francis quickly put away his groceries, humming to himself some American song he had heard playing overhead while shopping and climbed into the vehicle. With ease, he made his way to the road and headed home.

It wasn't far from the supermarket that Francis slowed down. A foot or two ahead of him, a blonde man walked with two or three grocery bags supported on each arm. Francis pulled up alongside the man and rolled down his window.

"What are you doing, _mon ami_?"

Arthur obviously had been lost in thought when Francis was pulling up along him and stumbled in surprise.

"I-Francis what are you doing here?" The Frenchman smirked when he saw the blush on the Brit's pale face.

"I'm offering you a ride home."

The two watched each other through the open window for a few moments before Arthur turned away.

"I don't need a ride."

Francis scowled. "Don't be ridiculous Arthur. It's one thing to walk the twelve blocks home empty handed or with one bag but not six." Arthur looked down at his hands as if he had forgotten the burden he carried with him.

"They're not that heavy." He finally decided was a rational reason. Francis rolled his eyes at the defiance and leaned across the seat divider to open the door for Arthur.

"You can put your things in the back seat."

A few minutes later, the two were making their way home in Francis's car.

"I-I" Arthur sighed. "Thank you Francis." The Frenchman hummed back a reply. Almost the entire rest of the ride was spent in silence. It wasn't until Francis was almost parked that Arthur said something else.

"_Bugger_!" Arthur cursed suddenly. "I forgot to buy the tomato sauce."

Francis momentarily wondered why the Englishman didn't just make some himself before horror stories he had heard the previous night resurfaced. It was probably best that Arthur used as many pre-made things as possible.

"I'm sorry Arthur, should I turn around so that you-"

"No." Arthur instantly interrupted Francis. "That's ridiculous. I'll figure something out. Thank you for the ride."

Francis tried to offer his assistance but Arthur denied it rather quickly and was off to his own apartment in a few minutes. Francis bit his lip in a moment of controlled frustration. He learned one thing about the elusive blonde and suddenly it seemed like Arthur wanted even less to do with him than before they had dinner. He was determined to change that.

* * *

About six-thirty that evening, just as Arthur was trying to figure out what he would eat until he could pick up some sauce or ingredients to make sauce for his lasagna, a knock came at his door.

"Who could possibly be coming by now?" Arthur muttered to himself. Alice watched her human's building anger mount even higher from a safe distance away, on the living room couch. He had been strangely grumpy and flustered ever since he returned home from where ever it was human's wasted time in the morning.

No one was at the door. Growing even more frustrated with each passing moment, Arthur was about to slam the door when something caught his eye. A small plastic ware container sat on his welcome mat. It's clear sides were fogging up from the heat of the contents. A crisp, white piece of paper was folded and situated on top of the pale blue cover with his name proclaimed across the front in looping script.

Curious, he picked up the paper and read the message inside.

Arthur,

Work keeps me busy tonight I'm afraid so I am unable to dine with you. Since you did not get tomato sauce for whatever dish you had been planning to butcher tonight, please enjoy this small dish (just eat it, do not ask what is in it) and join me tomorrow night for dinner. How does six o'clock sound?

Love,  
Francis.

Arthur reread the letter two or three more times, ignoring this small delay each time on the word "love" before he looked back at the plastic container in front of him. He had half a mind to just leave it out there to spite Francis. However, he couldn't deny that he enjoyed the Frenchman's cooking quite a bit. For French food it was alright. And not burnt.

Arthur shut, and locked, his apartment door a moment later. He turned to see Alice watching him curiously. He looked between the feline and container in his hands.

"Don't…Don't tell anyone." He instructed and disappeared into the kitchen.

Alice flicked her tail in the air a few times before rolling onto her back to stretch. What an interesting development for her human.

Devon: Woohoo, another dinner date in their future!

Replies to the Reviewers:

First of all, thank you all for reviewing:

Now then.

**Sora Resi - **Oh I'm glad. :)

**greeneyedAlice91 - **Yeah I couldn't make the meeting too easy going. Ah yes, Arthur most likely was wishing to be with Francis (he just won't admit it yet x3) Thank you, as for if it's past or not you'll just have to wait and see. Well the wedding is coming up so they had to try and get along. x3

**Francey-pants98 - **No, that's not possible :3

**Adriana Emerald - **I'm so glad you love it! :3 And thank you, I'm glad to hear it. (It definitely does need more FrUk). My friend seems pretty attached to her's so I had a feeling that was a pretty important piece for Whovians. x3

**Katoryu - **Possibly. *suggestive eyebrow wiggle* Don't give up! (Quite a few of my stories haven't been updated in so long I don't know how I keep pushing myself to write this one. It's just got to be you guys who keep reminding me how much you enjoy it for whatever reason). Writing can be such a pain but you can't give up!

**kfjkaskm - **Thank you. :3 Once more, maybe-maybe not. *;)* Maybe not all of it will be revealed in this story but some of it and I'm thinking of, once Every Day is finished not before, writing a story for America and Japan and how they met and fell in love and them getting married and all and another for Canada and the complicated love life I've give him. Thank you :3

**Crazy Green Earphones - **Aww :3 I get so happy reading reviews like this because I totally understand how you feel when it comes to reading certain fanfictions. I'm overjoyed to know people feel that way about mine. :'3 Thank you so much!

**CharCake - **Thank you :3 Well I couldn't bring myself to rush right into the romance but while it'll seem a bit more dragged out to us, I have to confess they'll be falling in love a lot faster than it seems. I just drag everything out into multiple chapters xD

**DivoTsvetche - **Awww *3* Oh thank you. :3 Haha I couldn't resist, Alfred just seems like a big sweetheart/teddy bear to me x3 *inhuman noise* Thank you so much~

_*My friends and family members are starting to worry about me because I keep rereading the reviews you guys leave and I'm squealing and waving my arms and acting completely insane but I really can't help it. You're all too precious!*_


	9. Chapter 9

Devon: Goodness gracious guys, I don't even know what to say here. Not even about the long wait but just about what the hell happens in this chapter. Um...how's your summer going?

Warning: ...I...just prepare yourself.

Disclaimer: Yeah I definitely don't own Hetalia. Wheew.

Rating: M. And it was very hard for me to keep this chapter not...graphic? I mean they're not yet to that point in the relationship but you guys cannot understand how badly I wanted them to be in that kind of relationship for this chapter.

Every Day  
France (Francis) x England (Arthur)/America (Alfred) x Japan (Kiku)/Spain (Antonio) x S. Italy or Romano (Lovino)/Yes there will be more but I'll save those until we get there.

Chapter Nine

Like every week day morning, Arthur's alarm clock woke him up at 6:15. The first coherent thought he had took a downward spiral immediately. Arthur took a decidedly cooler shower than normal but the thought stayed with him and he left the spray feeling unnaturally warm and looking flushed. That morning, his tie felt strangely tight around his neck, his suit stiff and constricting.

It wasn't until Arthur made it to his kitchen to put the kettle on that he realized why everything was so wrong. The Tupperware that had housed last night's dinner sat in his sink, cleaned and dried, waiting to be returned to its owner. Francis. Francis who had made Arthur dinner yesterday. Francis who had invited Arthur to dinner tonight. Francis who signed his bloody invitation with _love_.

Arthur let out an exasperated growl as he opened his apartment door to retrieve the morning paper. Four years he had been comfortable with his life and with his routine. Then Francis just had to come in and screw everything up. He didn't have to deal with feelings or dinner dates or not knowing what was really going on, if this was just what a friendship is now or if something more was going on, before Francis. This is why he had been single for almost eight years. He didn't _understand_ this whole dating thing.

"Maybe I shouldn't go to dinner." Arthur muttered, pulling his apartment door shut behind him. He could barely enjoy his early morning routine. "I'm rushing into this-whatever this is-way too fast. I need to….take a step back and think about this." He rationalized. Outside, a light breeze greeted him. Arthur took a deep breath and let a small smile relax him. That's definitely all he needs to do. Take a step back and get control of his schedule again. He started his walk to the parking lot and took note that the morning air was considerably cooler than it had been the past few weeks. He might need to start bringing an extra jacket with him.

Arthur slowed down his pace when he saw someone on the balcony up ahead. Unlike normal, Francis wasn't already waiting for him, leaning against his balcony's railing. This morning, Francis was just leaving his flat. His baggy t-shirt was falling off one shoulder until he yawned and stretched his arms high over his head. The shirt rose with his hands and revealed a strip of skin Arthur was pretty sure he wouldn't have been able to see if Francis's pants hadn't been slung so low on his hips. Quickly, Arthur squeezed his eyes shut and counted to thirty. Seeing that much of Francis, even from far away, made it considerably hard for Arthur to remind himself that not going to dinner was a good idea.

Francis pulled his cigarette from his mouth with a slow smile when he saw Arthur coming his way.

"_Bonjour, _Arthur."

Arthur grunted in response and kept walking. It made sense Francis told himself. Arthur would want some part of his everyday routine to go normally.

"So how about to day, _mon amour, _will you marry me?"

Arthur sighed heavily, his shoulders heaving with the effort and turned around.

"Not today, not ever Francis." Arthur responded, glaring up at the blonde Frenchman. Francis laughed.

"I'll at least see you at six o'clock for dinner though, right?" Arthur opened and closed his mouth a few times before promptly turning on his heel and leaving. Francis smiled, snuffing out his cigarette in the ash tray on his knee-high table in the corner.

"Tonight's a good night for _bouillabaisse." __Francis decided._

* * *

Arthur sighed as another loud crash of thunder shook the windows of his office building. This explained the morning coolness. It had been raining since about an hour after Arthur arrived to work. But not only raining, it was storming. Howling wind, bone rattling thunder and sky splitting lightning: the whole kit and caboodle. Not only that, the power had been coming on and off so much it was almost impossible to get any work done, not that there was much work to be done since most people called in to cancel appointments. Understandably, no one really wanted to go out in this weather.

Arthur ran his hands through his hair and sighed. His computer was just now restarting from the last loss of power they had experienced. It wasn't yet two o'clock when Eduard, another auditor in the building, stuck his head into Arthur's office.

"Gotten any work done?" Eduard asked, sending Arthur a quick smile. Arthur scoffed.

"With this ridiculous weather? How could-" Arthur was cut off as another crash of thunder simultaneously sounded with the lights turning off. Arthur sighed and fell back into his chair. Eduard laughed, turning to leave Arthur's office.

"Maybe they'll let us go home. We're obviously not getting anything done."

"I highly doubt it." Arthur muttered, crossing his arms and waiting for the electricity to come back on.

Half an hour later, Arthur's boss popped his head into Arthur's office as well. The electricity had yet to come back on.

"Well Mr. Kirkland, it seems we'll be down until the storm stops, and even then it'll take a while to get everything back together so go ahead and go on home." Quickly, the short little man left again. He never did like Arthur much. Arthur looked over at his dark computer screen and sighed. With such an unproductive day, he had plenty of time to think about things he shouldn't have been thinking about. And now, lucky him, he'd get to go home early and have more time to think about the highly inappropriate things that had been haunting him all day.

Not bothering to waste time, because really there was no avoiding what would happen, Arthur packed up his things and headed to the elevator. He reached the door leading outside fairly quickly and then it hit him, about the same time the freezing rain did. He didn't have an umbrella. Another frustrated sigh made its way past Arthur's lips before he could fight it off. Today was definitely not his day.

Arthur's Nissan Micra was a welcome shelter from the rain but in the short time it took for Arthur to shut the door, buckle himself in, and start the car he could feel the rain that had already soaked him begin to seep into his seat. He glanced at the heater with a bit of a wistful look and pulled out of the parking lot. Last winter he had broken the heater and had yet to get it fixed. He would just have to suffer through the short ride wet, cold, and uncomfortable. Being so uncomfortable should keep Arthur's mind off the thoughts that had been swirling through his head all day though, and he could at least look forward to a warm shower and relaxing when he got home.

* * *

Francis was walking back to his apartment, humming to himself. The bottoms of his jeans were getting a bit wet and he was cold but his large umbrella warded off most of the rain coming down on him. He was just coming back from his shopping trip to get ingredients for dinner. Rainy days actually made Francis's spirits rise a little. There was just something about the darkness and steady downfall that calmed him and made him look at things a little different. Perhaps he would start a new painting before preparing dinner. He did have almost three hours before Arthur should be home from work and to his apartment.

Francis was almost to his building when he heard someone coming up behind him. They were shuffling along really and breathing a bit heavily. Curious, Francis turned around to see who it was and almost dropped his groceries. Arthur was coming up the path. His shoulders were hunched and his briefcase was tucked under his arm so that he could cup his hands together and breathe on them for warmth. He was completely soaked from the rain and each step seemed like a bigger struggle for him than the last.

"_Oh mon Dieu!" _Francis gasped. "Arthur!"

Arthur looked up just then and found himself standing face to face with Francis. Francis of course looked strangely dry for the weather around them but he also looked absurdly concerned. Concerned for some reason about _him_, Arthur realized.

"Oh um…hello, Francis." Arthur wanted to ignore Francis. Or perhaps allow his pride to be hurt by Francis's obvious concern and march away but he was too tired. He was too tired to do much but stand there and freeze. Before Arthur could register what was happening, he was standing under Francis's umbrella and being ushered towards Francis's apartment. He couldn't bring himself to argue.

When the two men made their way inside, Françoise was waiting at the door. She gave a surprised mewl at the rushed arrival and quickly hopped out of the way to avoid being splashed by the onslaught of rain water that fell from Francis's umbrella and Arthur. Carelessly, Francis tossed his umbrella away and placed his groceries on the ground, out of their way. Silently he took Arthur's briefcase from him and peeled off the Englishman's jacket. Arthur couldn't stop his teeth from chattering long enough to argue.

Everything was a rush to Arthur and nothing much made sense. One moment he was standing outside in the rainstorm of the year and the next he was in Francis's large bathroom in his baggy, practically useless now that it was soaking wet, button up shirt and boxers with a towel over his head. Francis was kneeling beside the bathtub a few feet in front of him. When Francis stood up, Arthur could hear the pound of water coming from the faucet along with the rainfall pattering down on the building outside and soon steam was filling the room. Francis looked at Arthur with a gentle expression and Arthur had to force himself to stay standing instead of tumbling forward into Francis's most likely, very warm arms.

"Can you get in the tub yourself or do you need my help?" Francis asked Arthur in a quiet, steady voice. He had stepped closer to the Englishman and picked the large towel up a bit so that he could look into Arthur's tired eyes. He could feel the Brit's warm breath fan over his collarbone shakily. Arthur kept licking his lips, looking for the strength to answer Francis and all the while, the Frenchman stood mesmerized.

Arthur wasn't totally sure what Francis was asking but he was fairly certain that whatever it was involved him stripping in front of the Frenchman so he finally coughed up the words he needed.

"I'm not a baby. I can take care of myself."

Francis actually smiled at Arthur's response. The two stood there for a few moments and Arthur almost thought Francis was going to lean in and kiss him but the Frenchman caught himself and walked around Arthur.

"Of course you can, _mon ami_, go ahead and warm up in the bath. I'll bring you some dry clothes to change into." Quickly, Francis left. Arthur slipped out of his remaining clothes and slid into the welcoming pool waiting for him.

Francis stood outside the bathroom door, leaning against it, when Arthur finally immersed himself in the water. Even through the thick wooden door, Francis heard the moan that escaped Arthur when the water swallowed his cold, sore body and Francis audibly swallowed. Francis had been so focused on making sure Arthur was okay, getting him into the bathroom and getting him out of his soaked clothes, he hadn't taken the time to realize what kind of affect it might have on him.

Francis closed his eyes but instead of darkness, he saw Arthur's eyes. Those large olive green pools staring up at him from beneath blonde bangs and long eyelashes. The golden flecks and almost-blue rims around his pupils were so vibrant in his mind; Francis itched to paint them onto a canvas.

_Towel, _Francis reminded himself finally. _Arthur needs another towel and dry clothes. _

Arthur couldn't believe how nice the bath felt. It was so warm and welcoming; he could drown forever in the smooth embrace. Of course, that would mean hours later Francis would find his naked body floating in his bathtub so Arthur forced himself to stay conscious. He just closed his eyes is all.

* * *

An hour later it was still raining when Arthur found himself under thick blankets in a _very_ comfortable bed. Françoise woke from her light nap when she heard the rustle of sheets as Arthur woke up and quickly hopped off the bed to inform her human that his guest was awake. Arthur watched the white cat leave the room and smiled softly to himself. She was an interesting creature.

"_White_ cat?" Arthur suddenly hissed, sitting up so quickly, he felt dizzy. He didn't have a white cat. He wasn't _home_. He was at Francis's. And the last place he had been was the bath. Which meant one of two things, and based on the feeling of cloth around him, despite the blankets pooling around his waist when he sat up, Francis had dressed him. Arthur fell back against the pillows and covered his face.

_Lovely, _he thought sarcastically. _That's exactly what I wanted to happen tonight. Really._

A light knock sounded on the door frame a minute later. Arthur moved one hand away from his face and saw Francis standing in the door way with the light from the hall outlining him in a warm glow. Francis gave Arthur a small smile when he saw that the Englishman was awake and took a few steps into the room.

"How are you feeling?" Francis asked quietly. He seemed genuinely concerned.

_Mortified._

"I'm…fine." Arthur sighed, pushing himself into a sitting position. Francis was by his side in a split second, hovering over him before it occurred to him just how close he was.

"I'm sorry." Francis apologized, his warm breath coasting over the bare skin of Arthur's neck and sending a shiver down Arthur's back. Francis backed up a bit and sat on the edge of the bed. "You were so exhausted before I just wanted to make sure you were alright." Francis muttered. Arthur licked his lips and studied the Frenchman. For whatever reason, Francis seemed genuinely worried about him. It baffled him to say the least.

"I-I'm fine." Arthur reassured Francis. "But thank you."

Francis could feel a smile come over his features.

"For what?"

"Helping me. Bringing me in out of the rain and…" Arthur trailed off. Finally, the half-hearted smile Francis had been wearing to hide his worry was replaced by a playful smirk.

"Don't worry, I didn't look. Much."

Arthur flushed when Francis winked at him but it only prompted the Frenchman to laugh.

"You bloody frog!" Arthur yelled, picking up the pillow behind him, for lack of a better weapon, and tossing it at the Frenchman who had started to make his way to the door. The shot missed but the Frenchman left the room. Arthur sighed and fell back against the mattress. Suddenly, Francis popped his head back in.

"Though I didn't say I didn't touch."

* * *

Francis placed a bowl in front of Arthur at the kitchen table. He started to laugh at the Englishman's sour expression but it only pained his bruising jaw more and he quickly turned back around to retrieve the ice pack he had left on the counter.

"I hope I broke it." Arthur muttered, picking up the spoon in the bowl to swirl the broth inside around. Francis had provided Arthur dinner like he had originally planned only he insisted on Arthur having simple chicken broth instead of a heavy meal because Arthur very well could have gotten sick.

Francis brought a second bowl to the table and sat down to the right of Arthur. Despite the fact that he had to hold an ice pack to his face while he ate the simple broth, Francis was smiling.

"I was only joking."

"I'm not." Arthur replied sourly, taking a bit of his soup. Arthur's stomach growled.

The noise surprised both of the men and for a moment they just sat at the table, looking at the surprised expression mirrored on each other's faces. Finally Francis huffed a light, airy laugh and stood up from the table once more. Arthur only blushed and ate more of his soup.

A few minutes later Francis returned and laid a plate on the table between them. A few slices of bread had been cut and lightly buttered.

"Th-Thank you." Arthur said. He wouldn't meet his host's eyes. Francis sighed and sat back down to finish his dinner.

Their meal was quite but the silence was surprisingly comfortable. The only real noise was the sound of rain on the walls and windows of the apartment. They were almost done eating in fact, before another particularly loud crash of thunder came from outside.

Arthur dropped his spoon back into the bowl and stood up so fast his chair toppled over.

"Arthur? Are you alright?" Francis got to his feet as well but the Brit was to the door already. "Arthur what are you doing? You can't go out there in this weather."

"Alice has been alone all day Francis, she's terrified of thunderstorms!"

"Arthur wait!" Francis yelled, reaching out to grab the Englishman's wrist. "I'm sorry...Alice is scared but you can't go out like this."

"Thank you Francis. For helping me." Arthur said sincerely, stopping the Frenchman before he said anything else. Arthur grasped Francis's face in his hands, hands that were still cold, and much to the surprise of the Frenchman gave Francis a small kiss on the tip of his nose. "I have to go."

And then he was gone, flying out the door.

Devon: Gah that kiss made no sense there but I needed something or I was going to loose it, I'm sorry please forgive me. Anyways how was that? I'm thinking once this story is over and only once it's over, I'm going to write a fanfic (I think I'll call it One Day) and have it be the story of Alfred and Kiku before and during their relationship and then you know getting married and stuff. Sound interesting? Anyone maybe want to read it if I do it after this one is over? Not really important right now we've got quite a while to go before this one's over I've just been thinking about it.

Replies to the Reviewers:

First of all, thank you all for reviewing:

Now then.

**greeneyedAlice91: **Ah yes, Arthur is quite like an onion, isn't he? Yeah I know it's kind of crazy but from like the get go, that had been my plan that the two of them had a history so we'll have to see how this plays out. Alice is definitely a very smart cat and she's growing to be my favorite character to write xD Well I'm glad you thought it was cute it seemed very fitting for Arthur to get caught up on the "love".

**Little Miss Abrasive: **Um...its a little a both? I don't want to spill too much because it will eventually be explained but you're not too far off with the second one. I'm glad you're loving it and sorry this update should have been posted like two days ago but I'm slow and it should have been finished two weeks ago but I'm a procrastinator.

**Sora Resi: **Well I'm so glad you like that about him because I was afraid he'd seem too out of character when he's not being soo pervy but that's not all there is to Francis so I had to write him how I see him.

**Yami Mizuna: ***happy squealing* Why thank you I'm glad you like it. *dramatic bow*

**CharCake: **Awww thank you darling 3

**Katoryu: **Well there wasn't too much of the dinner date in here but we can blame Arthur for that. And you know Francis will be looking for another date at some point. x3 Well that's great, I'm so glad! Luckily for this story I haven't had too much writer's block.

**Sasunaru N Ichihitsu: (1)** Ooh thank you so much :3 I'm so glad you liked it so much. xD **(2) **Ooh you're too precious if this story makes you fangirl, reading your reviews make me fangirl it makes me so happy to see how much you enjoy. I'll cross my fingers that you don't get thrown into an asylum before this is over because I definitely want you to see the ending. :)

**sophiakuso: **I'm so glad you love it! I'll definitely continue I'm just not always onto of things when it comes to updating in a timely manner. :3


	10. Chapter 10

Devon: Holy shit guys 10 chapters this is like a milestone or something right? Maybe not but anyways it's kind of a big deal. There was some other important announcement I had...oh right. I have no internet yippee. Someone in my family, though I'm not naming names, decided that our internet provider was too costly. Which, yeah okay kind of, but then they made the lovely decision of canceling everything without bothering to find someone else. So I'm "borrowing" my neighbor's internet to post this. Anyways I know my updates aren't always the best timed things ever but if the next few updates come really randomly like two within a day of each other and then nothing for like a month it's because I'm without internet and I really don't like using my neighbor's (I feel like I'm stealing because I'm weird and nervous about that kinda thing). So I apologize in advance for that but I'm going to try and not let it limit me too much.

Warning: ...I actually didn't really talk about this chapter in that opening note. I normally do. Hm...warnings. It's a tad shorter than my normal chapters and I kindofsortofreallydon'tlike/youcouldalmostsayhatet hischapter but you guys seem more fond of my writing than I am so maybe you'll enjoy it...

Disclaimer: It's probably for the best that I don't own Hetalia...

Rating: M. No that's not a necessary rating for this chapter unless you rate it M for TERRIBLE QUALITY-it's probably not that bad I'm just being dramatic because I haven't had caffeine yet today. Really, just ignore like the entirety of this note I'm just tired.

Every Day  
France (Francis) x England (Arthur)/America (Alfred) x Japan (Kiku)/Spain (Antonio) x S. Italy or Romano (Lovino)/Yes there will be more but I'll save those until we get there. (Do I always put a period there?)

Chapter Ten

Arthur raced home berating himself for forgetting his flatmate the whole way there. It was one thing for him to be gone all day to work when he couldn't help it-and didn't know that it was going to rain-but date or no date with Francis he should have rushed home to the poor girl. Arthur couldn't deny the facts as much as he hated it. He hadn't thought about Alice all day. His thoughts were focused purely on the blonde man he had just punched in the face not twenty minutes previous.

When Arthur opened the door to his flat, it was quite. All the lights in the place were off, which was expected when he hadn't been home all day, but with the storm clouds congregating in the sky, there was a depressing darkness coating everything in the flat. Alice was nowhere in sight. Arthur listed off the places she might be to himself. It had been so long since he hadn't been with Alice through a storm, years since she had to hide by herself while he was off somewhere else. In the end, Arthur decided he'd try looking under the couch first.

That search proved to be unfruitful however. So Arthur continued his search in the hall closet. The closet was one of Alice's favorite places to nap since she realized the door didn't latch and she could get into the room all by herself. It was where Arthur stored his extra blankets in the summer so every winter when he needed them again, they were covered in cat hair but he couldn't bring himself to fix the door knob and prevent Alice from going in there. The closet, however, was also empty of any feline presence. So Arthur turned to his right, towards his bedroom. Arthur pushed open the slightly ajar door and took in the state of the room. The two pillows normally on his bed had been kicked or thrown off somehow and the duvet was in complete disarray, only tucked under the mattress by one corner.

Arthur crouched down to look under the bed. Two wide, glowing green eyes looked back at him.

"I'm sorry, old girl." Arthur apologized quietly. "I didn't mean to leave you alone."

Alice attempted to hiss at Arthur but the sound was quiet and the angry tone it normally had fell flat. Arthur worried his bottom lip as he lowered himself to lay flat on the ground. With one hand, he gently drummed out a steady, rhythmic pattern on the carpeted floor. Eventually, Alice started to inch her way towards her human. Every crash of thunder had her frozen in place, tense, for a few minutes but she eventually made it out from under the bed.

Arthur sat up, letting out the worried breath he had been holding in a thankful gasp, and slowly pulled the scared feline into his arms. All the while he continued to whisper soothing words and quiet apologizes. Once Alice was settled in his arms, Arthur slowly rose onto his feet. He waited until she was calm once more before he started moving out of the bed room. Knowing Alice, she'd been under the bed since the storm started so he'd like to try and get some food into her.

When Arthur got to his center room, he stopped dead in his tracks. His flat door was wide open.

* * *

Francis stood in his door way, watching his apartment door slowly begin to swing shut. He could feel Françoise as she watched him, waiting for a reaction from her human.

"Françoise, did that…did Arthur-" Francis was quite sure how to word his question. Honestly he wasn't quite sure what he was asking. Finally Francis turned to look at the white cat watching him. He was fairly certain she was laughing at him.

Francis didn't move for a while. He just stood in his door way watching the empty hallway through the partially open door. It wasn't until something bumped his foot that he reacted at all. Françoise had pushed a shoe towards him.

"What are you doing?" Francis asked curiously, bending down to pick up the shoe. Francis looked it over a few time, turning the shoe in his hands before he could feel laughter bubbling out of him.

"These aren't my shoes, Françoise. Arthur left his shoes here." Françoise didn't look nearly as entertained by the discovery as Francis was. A few minutes later, Francis jumped to his feet.

"_Mon Dieu!_ That idiot left without his shoes! It's still storming out there; he's going to get sick!" Francis paused in his angry rant long enough to see Françoise standing in the open door way. He sighed, pushing some of his hair away from his face. "That's what you were trying to tell me? Go after him? And say what? 'Oh hello Arthur I know you need to rush home to your poor, frightened Alice but I irrationally care about you and I would like you to put your shoes on before you get sick'?"

Françoise was fairly proud of herself when the last thing she saw was the back of her human going down the hall with a pair of shoes in his hands before the door shut.

Francis couldn't believe he had let his cat talk-er maybe not exactly talk-him into going out in the rain after the stupid, frustratingly-adorable, barefoot Englishman he had let into his apartment.

When Francis reached Arthur's apartment, the door was open. He stopped at the door way and looked into the dark apartment. _Why is the door open?_

Francis was debating with himself on if it would be a good idea to go inside uninvited or if he should wait when he heard footsteps from inside the apartment. A moment later, Arthur was standing in front of him.

"Francis? What are you doing here?" Though surprised, Arthur was talking very quietly.

"You forgot your shoes." Francis replied automatically, holding the said shoes out to the Brit. Arthur looked at the footwear, surprised.

"I forgot my…" Arthur looked down at his bare feet and back up at the shoes. "I guess I did. But Francis, so did you."

Francis looked at Arthur like he didn't understand what the Englishman was saying. Which in all honesty, he didn't understand what Arthur was saying.

"I forgot my shoes?"

Arthur pointed towards Francis's feet. Sure enough, they were bare. When Francis looked back up at Arthur, he was smiling though the happy expression disappeared as soon as he realized Francis was watching him. Arthur straightened.

"Well I can't very well let you go back out in the rain like that so come in and help me." Arthur turned on his heel and headed towards what Francis assumed was his kitchen. Francis shut the door behind him, leaving Arthur's shoes near it, before he followed after Arthur. In the kitchen Arthur was standing in front of his counter.

He nodded towards the cupboard above his head when Francis came towards him. "Will you get down a can of cat food?" Francis looked at Arthur curiously at the request. It was then that he saw the cat in Arthur's arms. Wide green eyes watched him, unblinking. Francis couldn't imagine how he missed the cat when he first saw Arthur.

Francis opened the cupboard and pulled out a can of the wet cat food. Then, following the occasional instruction from Arthur, he prepared the food for the cat. All the while, Arthur stood next to him rubbing soothing circles on the top of his cat's head and running a finger up and down the bridge of the Scottish fold's nose. Sometimes Francis could catch little snippets of the comforting words Arthur was whispering down to the frightened animal in his arms. Every time a crash of thunder could be heard, Francis could see the frightened thing tense up. When the lightning lit up the room around them from the window, the cat seemed to shrink itself and hide further into Arthur's arms.

Francis placed the food dish next to the water and took a step back, waiting for Arthur's next instruction. Slowly, Arthur lowered the cat onto the floor near the food dish and stepped back to stand next to Francis. Silently, he grabbed the Frenchman's arm and the two lowered themselves to sit on the ground far enough to give the animal some room to eat but close enough that she could reach Arthur when the thunder came again.

"So that…that is Alice?" Francis tried to keep his voice as low as Arthur's had been. Arthur nodded, watching Alice eat for a few more minutes before he looked at Francis.

"Thank you for helping with that."

"That's three-no four-times in one night you've thanked me Arthur." Francis whispered back as a reply. Arthur scowled.

"That many? Obviously I've spent too much time with you."

Francis tried not to laugh for fear of frightening Alice more.

"Just admit that you're starting to like me and get it over with already, _mon ami_." Francis replied, leaning over and placing a feather-light kiss on Arthur's cheek.

"Wh-what was that for?" Arthur's voice broke a little as he reached up to touch his cheek. Despite the dark surroundings, Francis could make out a light blush dying Arthur's face.

"_My_ thank you for the one you gave me earlier."

"I didn't-but I never-" Arthur stumbled over his words but repeated thunder crashes cut him off before he could form a coherent sentence. Alice scrambled into Arthur's arms, latching her claws past his shirt sleeves into his skin so fiercely he actually winced. After all these years he had gotten used to her clawing him from fright during storms so much that he rarely even noticed it. The pain surprised him but he bit back his yelp in exchange for whispering more soothing words to his flatmate.

Arthur began to pet Alice once more, using the same soothing motions from before but she refused to relax. Arthur began to chew on his lip once more. There was one more thing he usually did to calm Alice down and eventually lull her to sleep during a storm but he wasn't too fond of having Francis around when he did it. However when he heard the quiet, pitiful "meow" come from Alice after a particularly loud bout of thunder, he sucked up his concerns and began to sing.

Devon: *slowly melts into a tiny puddle of goo on the floor* What did I just write? Oh my gosh you guys are seriously too good to me. I get your frankly amazing reviews and pay you back with this more than two weeks later? *rolls over* I need some caffeine and air conditioning I'm sorry you have to deal with my random author notes/comments. They're completely unnecessary.

Replies to the Reviewers:

First of all, thank you all for reviewing:

Now then.

**Iikku The Eyebrow Master - **Aww that's a lot of feels~ I'm so glad you think they're in character because by this point I don't but people keep reading this story regardless so that makes me feel a lot better about it.

**Yami Mizuna - **Yes the kiss did kind of throw him off when brought back to his attention but it was the last thing Francis expected to happen there so he was really thrown through a loop.

**Sora Resi - ***happy noise*~

**phantomsonic - **Oh thank God, I thought you were like...mad at me/the story at first. I'm glad you like it.

**Royal Puppet Master - **Yeah :( These storms are hard on Alice and Arthur...**  
**

**Little Miss Abrasive - **Yeah I didn't really want it to come to that so I'm glad you agree with me that it was better to wait. And I totally agree about caring!Francis ;3

**Kasket - **Really~? Yay~ ...Barney and Superman...Hm...that's a new one. I've never thought of that couple even in my wildest dreams (and trust me I've had a few crazy ones) I'm glad you writing that much though x3

**Britannia Cheshire Cat - **Really? It made your day? Well I'm fairly certain knowing that has just made my day~ Well Francis followed him like you asked but he needed a little extra prompting. As for painting our sexy little Brit...well we'll just have to wait and see, won't we? *wiggles eyebrows suggestively*

**Katoryu - **Don't worry definitely not being creepy, I love you too x3 It makes me happy knowing that. I'm so glad you can enjoy FrUk a little more with my story :3 You guys are too great, my writing isn't anything special but I'm super glad to know you'd read it. And ohmigosh yes of course I'll read your stories darling, I'll pop on over to your account as soon as I get the chance and read those you have posted. And if there's anything else you'd like me to read feel free to send me a PM on here, or through a PM ask and I'd be happy to let you know another way you could contact me if you want help with something (It makes me super happy when people ask for my help if you couldn't tell don't mind me I'm just doing a little happy dance in my living room~)

**marmalade-snow - **Yeah, Arthur's finally beginning to see that something's going on but you're right. It's still a little early for love. :3

**Adriana Emerald - **I'm so glad you like it so much, and you're very welcome for the update. :3 Well I certainly hope you can meet your own Francis on your way to work one day :3 (And please do tell me if you happen across one so I can throw a little celebration for you with my dogs~)

**greeneyedAlice91 - **Ah yes that's very true. And that's why we love him. Well, Francis is only _human_ (kind of xD) after all ;) Well Alice didn't seem to claw Arthur too badly but we might have to wait and see the morning after what kind of scars are left. And, why thank you. :3

**RainbowFedora - **Yes you may~ And I'm so glad you like my Fancis :3


	11. Chapter 11

Devon: So...if you don't already, I'm fairly certain you're going to hate me after this chapter. Also, really? You guys want to hear about Arthur's singing, that badly?

Warning: ^See above message. Also, some more parts of Arthur's life start to be revealed in this chapter. Just little snipits but they're there...

Disclaimer: *inhuman noises*

Rating: M. No sexy times in this chapter though, kiddies~

Every Day  
France (Francis) x England (Arthur)/America (Alfred) x Japan (Kiku)/Spain (Antonio) x S. Italy or Romano (Lovino)/Yes there will be more but I'll save those until we get there

Chapter Eleven

Arthur woke up from the best sleep he could ever recall having without the annoying blare of his alarm clock. He couldn't quite put a finger on why, but he was in all honesty grateful for it. After such a great, restful night, it was almost…heavenly to be able to wake himself up instead of feeling as if he had been cheated out of much longer, restful night. Not that he would ever admit to disliking the strict, uniform schedule he had assigned himself. Arthur turned his head to look at his clock and see if he could allow himself a few more minutes to lounge in bed after waking up before the alarm. The truth hit him in the face with the same harshness the Revolutionary War hit England.

Arthur wasn't in his bedroom.

He wasn't even in a bed.

From the looks of things, he was on the floor of his kitchen. But he knew for a fact that his floor wasn't this comfortable to lie on. Which meant one thing. One thing Arthur had probably realized almost as soon as he woke up but something he didn't want to acknowledge. Turning his head once more, Arthur was greeted with the sight of Francis's still sleeping face. Small rays of sun were coming in through the window and playing tricks on the curls flying around the Frenchman's head making it harder for Arthur to deny how much he wanted to run his fingers through the golden strands. The light stubble Francis always had along his jaw was a bit darker, a bit thicker, than usual; and Arthur was suddenly overwrought with the desire to know what it would feel like to have the prickly hair rub against his face in the midst of a kiss.

The thought had Arthur's face burning red but there was no where he could hide-and nothing he could truly hide from.

Upon further examination of the situation, Arthur took note that most likely he had slept with his head on Francis's chest. One of the Frenchman's arms was wrapped almost possessively around his waist and their legs were intertwined in some complicated knot he couldn't replicate if he wanted to.

The only thing left for Arthur to question was _why_. And then he noticed Alice. Still curled up, peacefully asleep the feline was only a few feet away from them. There had been a storm last night and he had been in the kitchen comforting Alice like he had many times before. But Francis had been there too, which wasn't like normal. Because he had forgotten something silly like…his shoes. Arthur had left his shoes in Francis's flat and the Frenchman had come to return them and somehow….they ended up asleep in each other's arms on Arthur's kitchen floor.

_And I wasn't even drunk this time._ Arthur couldn't help the sour thought from seeping through. But he knew this was different. If not only because he was fully dressed and not in any kind of pain as far as he could tell, but for some reason, he knew he could trust Francis in this situation. Somehow after four years of being acquaintances at most, and a strange four day friendship, Arthur found himself starting to trust Francis more than the "friends" he had for years in high school and college. It was actually a completely terrifying realization.

Arthur didn't get much time to dwell on the terrifying thought however because Francis woke up.

Arthur was positive there wasn't anything more powerful than being hit full force by Francis's 100-watt smile this early in the morning.

"Good morning Arthur." Francis practically purred his greeting with a confident tone that almost had Arthur convinced Francis greeted him every morning like _this_. Strangely, Arthur wanted to be as comfortable as Francis in this situation.

"Um…good morning Francis." Arthur replied awkwardly. Still smiling, Francis moved his free arm to rest behind his head.

"So am I dreaming again or am I actually waking up with you?" Francis asked casually. Arthur scoffed.

"Do you dream of waking up on my kitchen floor often Francis? That's really quite odd." Francis laughed at Arthur's response and the deep sound even had a bit of a smile pulling across Arthur's lips.

"I dream of waking up with you in my arms every night, _mon cheri_. The locations vary however depending on my mood and what I ate right before going to bed." This time Francis winked to go along with his words. Despite his best efforts, laughter bubbled up past Arthur's lips. Francis's expression softened when he heard the sound but Arthur told himself he imagined it, just like he imagined the frantic fluttering of his heart when he saw Francis's gentle smile.

"Are you always this bad of a bloody flirt and I've missed it all these years or am I just special?" Arthur's question seemed to somber Francis because the playful smile he had previously disappeared. Slowly, Francis moved himself into a sitting position, keeping his arm around Arthur so that the Brit was forced to sit up with him.

"Honestly, I think you're just special Arthur." Francis admitted. "I flirt, I'll admit, I'm French and stereotypes are what they are for a reason, but I'm normally much better at it than I am with you."

Arthur shifted nervously in place. It was hard to put together a response when Francis was looking at him with the bluest eyes and holding him close to his warmth; his fingers curling deliciously around Arthur's waist.

"You're just-You're just putting the blame on me because you don't want to admit you can't-can't impress me." Arthur mumbled back quietly. Francis shrugged but Arthur could tell by the look the Frenchman sent him that Francis had a different thought on the matter.

The men's conversation woke up Alice, who rolled onto her back and stretched. She stayed in that position to watch two of them. It was the first time she had met the "bloody frog" her human was always complaining about but she already liked him. Arthur must have too, even if he would deny it, because Arthur usually only tolerated hugs, of any kind, from family or those he considered to be family. Yet never once did he try to remove Francis's arm from around his waist. After a while of their back and forth, he stopped even noticing the arm. He was comfortable with Francis, Alice realized. Interesting development.

Arthur stopped mid-sentence when he felt small paws on him. Alice was attempting to climb into his lap. Smiling, he picked up the chubby feline and scratched behind her ears. Happily she nuzzled his hand. She was always more affectionate after a storm.

"Did you sleep through the rest of the storm?" Arthur asked. He remembered Alice falling asleep in his lap but soon after he must have also fallen asleep. Alice didn't make any indication of whether she slept through the storm or not, only nudging Arthur's hand so that he would continue to pet her. Arthur laughed quietly.

"Has she always been afraid of storms?" Francis asked quietly after a few minutes. He had shifted to sit more behind Arthur than next to him and his head was almost resting against Arthur's shoulder. Francis was watching Alice as she was lavished by Arthur's slim fingers. Arthur sucked in a quiet gasp when he realized how close Francis had gotten to him but didn't say anything about it, only turned his attention back to the feline in his lap once more.

"For as long as I have known her, she has been." Arthur replied, keeping the volume of his voice as low as Francis had.

"And how long is that exactly?" The Frenchman replied.

"Ten years."

Francis was surprised. "Ten years? That's quite a long time." Arthur shrugged one shoulder, nonchalantly.

"I found her during my first year of high school." Arthur paused, licking his lips. He ran one finger under Alice's chin. He wasn't sure if he should continue or not. Would Francis care how he found Alice? Probably not.

"Found?"

Arthur bit the inside of his cheek in surprise. Apparently, Francis was more interested than he thought.

"There had been a really bad storm a few days previous and though the wind and the thunder and the lightning had all but gone, the rain continued for days. It was cold and wet and miserable and I was walking home from school." Arthur told Francis, turning slightly to look at the Frenchman. When he saw, however, how closely Francis's sky-blue eyes were watching him he flushed and turned back to Alice. "I heard a sound, though I'm not sure what to call it, it was a sort of crying. I went to see what it was. In a poor excuse for a cardboard box buried under garbage was this thin, dirty, soaking wet little kitten, too young to be away from its mother, all alone and I brought it home with me." Though Arthur couldn't see, Francis smiled. "It wasn't for another few months, when there was another storm that I realized Alice was afraid of them too."

Francis wasn't sure if he misheard Arthur or not. "Too? She was afraid of them too?" A blush bloomed across Arthur's pale skin.

"Up until that point, I had-I was-storms terrified me. I hated them. When this storm came, early in the morning I begged and pleaded with my mother that I didn't have to go to school, it was terrible enough going there on a normal day and I had to walk to and from school it would have just been horrendous. Finally, she gave in and I ran back to my room. I thought, perhaps, Alice would help me deal with the storm but when I found her she looked in a worse state than I was. I helped her get through the storm instead and I…haven't been scared since."

The three of them were quiet. Arthur petting Alice, Francis watching the two of them, and Alice enjoying the attention of her human. Finally, Francis reached over and scratched Alice's head. To Arthur's complete disbelief, and Francis's delight, Alice responded-not warmly but kindly-to the foreign hand.

"I guess she likes me." Francis commented nonchalantly, looking away from the feline to look at Arthur with a wide smile. Arthur found a smile tugging at his lips as well.

_If _Alice _likes Francis…he's got to be good, right?_

"I guess so."

Because Arthur had never been good at relationships to begin with, and this casual awkward thing going on with Francis was still in its beginning stages, Arthur choose that exact moment to ruin the well…moment. He caught a glimpse of his watch when he looked away from Francis and jumped to his feet. Arthur scooped Alice up as he rose but for a split second, somehow, Francis escaped his mind. The time on the face of his watch was more important. 6:59 a.m. Almost seven o'clock. Arthur was late for work.

Using the more colorful spectrum of his vocabulary, Arthur stormed from the kitchen. He dropped Alice off on the couch and went to his bed room to find clean clothes. He'd have to skip his morning shower and breakfast but if he hurried he might be able to make it on time.

Francis still sat on the Englishman's floor, nursing his now very sore-and possibly broken-nose. Arthur's sudden departure left him totally baffled. Did he do something wrong? Perhaps it was that 'someone' Arthur had met with a few days previous. Francis smiled to himself. If Arthur was worried what his special someone might think if they knew the position the two of them had been in, perhaps Francis's were even less one sided than he had feared.

Non, Francis scolded himself, the smile disappearing from his face. _If Arthur has someone, I should apologize_.

Francis scowled, running a hand through his hair. This morning had been off to such a good start, too.

Alice by this time had made her way back into the kitchen to see why their guest was still there. She saw the Frenchman pulling himself to his feet and gingerly touching his nose a few times. He grimaced but when he saw her, he dropped the hand to his side and smiled.

"_Bonjour, petit chat_." He greeted. The man stuck one hand into his pocket and stepped around her to leave the room.

_Just when she thought she was beginning to understand her human's behavior, things started to change. _Alice thought with a sigh, going to see if there was still something in her food dish.

Arthur had discarded his old, rumpled clothes into a messy pile on the floor he would have been horrified with any other time. His trousers were on, but unfastened when he tripped over one of the pillows Alice had discarded yesterday in her fright. He landed facing his left-side bedside table. He kept the main charging base for his phone there. Though the handset was somewhere else at the moment, the small screen in the middle of the base was flashing a bright orange, informing Arthur that he had a voicemail. Curious, Arthur reached up and pushed the speaker button.

"You have two new messages." The automated female voice immediately told Arthur. "First, unheard message from: Monday, August 19th, 2013. 12:30 p.m.:"

"Arthur? Mattie gave me this number so I hope it's right. Both of you have really atrocious handwriting so something might've been mixed up." Alfred's voice cut through the air. Someone started talking in the background but the words were muffled. Arthur however could hear Alfred saying "Okay, okay" and "Don't worry Kiku, Arthur's almost as thick-skinned as I am. No offense taken. Promise." Finally, Alfred turned his attention back to the phone and the message he was leaving for Arthur. "Anyways, you should be getting an invite in the mail soon so you know all the details like a normal guest for this wedding but I wanted you to keep a watch on your mail in case you don't get it and we have to tell you separately." There was a long pause, and Arthur thought the message was complete but at the very last second, Alfred's rushed voice came back. "Oh also, the invite is for you and your plus one."

"Second unheard message," the robotic voice started, not allowing Arthur any time to dwell on the voicemail Alfred left, or the underlying message he had for Arthur at the end. "From: Tuesday, August 20th, 2013. 5:45 a.m."

"Mr. Kirkland? This is the number we have for you under file at the office. All your clients have already been called and informed that they will have to wait to meet with you for a while. The power is still not on at the office. Please use your day off wisely." Arthur's boss spoke in a monotone and ended the message quickly. Even through a voicemail, the man made it obvious he'd rather speak with another employee than Arthur.

"End of messages."

Arthur rolled onto his back and let out a relieved sigh. He wasn't going to be late for work. There wasn't work. This was wonderful, glorious news. Momentarily, Arthur wondered if he could simply go back into the kitchen, sit in that strange position that almost made it seem like he was in Francis's arms and not do anything for the rest of the day but he immediately banished the thought. That was ridiculous. And he wasn't even sure what part of his subconscious that idea had come from but he wondered if there was a doctor that specialized in permanently quieting such a thing.

A minute later, Arthur still hadn't moved from his floor and he heard someone in the doorway clear their throat. Arthur pushed himself up to look over his bed at Francis. The Frenchman's hair and clothing was in such disarray, Arthur was glad he didn't have a flatmate-other than Alice-who he might need to explain the situation to. He certainly wouldn't believe nothing had been going on between the two if he was the third party.

"Is um..Is everything alright?" Francis asked.

_Wonderful job Arthur_, Arthur scolded himself. _Obviously Francis is well aware that suddenly storming away to lay half-naked on the floor isn't normal behavior for _anyone_. _Arthur blinked in surprise at the sour tone he was using on himself. Since when did he care what Francis tho-? Though really, who was he kidding?

"I was late for work." Arthur explained. Once again aware that he was barely dressed with a guest in the house, Arthur wasn't too keen on the idea of getting up from the ground. At least in his current position the bed provided him some cover.

"You 'were' late for work?"

"And now I'm not." Arthur replied with a nod. He could tell by the look on Francis's face, the Frenchman wasn't following. "My boss called. I just got his message. The power is out. So I can't go into work anyways. So I'm not late."

Francis leaned against the door frame.

"What is your job?"

Arthur shifted his weight. The carpet had stopped feeling pleasant on the one elbow he had been using to support his torso early on in the conversation.

"I'm an auditor." Francis didn't say anything for a while, only studied the Englishman with an unreadable expression on his face. Finally, he took a deep breath and asked:

"Is that why you left the kitchen in such a hurry?"

Arthur nodded. "I thought I was late."

For reasons Arthur couldn't even fathom, a relieved expression crossed Francis's face. Before Arthur tried to put much thought into that relieved expression, the weight on his arm became too much and he fell back with a quiet "oomph". Francis rushed to Arthur's side. However, once he was knelt next to the Englishman, he realized Arthur was fine. Arthur took the time to study Francis's face and realized the Frenchman wasn't totally fine.

"Francis your nose…"

"Ah, it's swollen, isn't it?" Francis replied with a sad sigh. Arthur nodded, reaching up to gently touch the reddened bridge of Francis's nose. Francis winced slightly but didn't move away.

"When did that happen?"

"Your big head bashed into it." Francis smirked down at Arthur. Arthur scowled.

"It wouldn't have if you didn't stick _your_ big nose where it didn't belong." Arthur replied without missing a beat. Francis leaned closer to the Englishman, almost so his "big nose" was brushing against Arthur's, but not quite.

"You like it there, don't you _mon ami_?" Arthur flushed, almost scarlet at the close proximity. Once more, his thought from early in the morning, about Francis's stubble, reared its ugly head.

"Of course not. Now get off me." Arthur replied half-heartedly. It's not like Francis couldn't see his blush. "Maybe you should go to a doctor. It might be broken." Francis sat up, a little, and shook his head.

"_Non_, I do not think it is broken. Even if it is, I know something that would heal it much faster than a doctor." Francis replied. He was smiling down at Arthur. Suspicion swirling dark in his mind, Arthur took the bait.

"What is that?"

"A kiss from you and maybe a song as well."

Arthur stiffened. Now more than anything, he wanted to roll under his bed and stay there-possibly forever. Or maybe, just this once, entertain the idea that the monsters from all those movies Alfred loved as a kid were real and his carpet could suddenly swallow him whole.

Francis had heard him sing.

Yesterday when Alice was so distraught over the storm. His singing was the only thing that could calm her down when she got really frightened.

Another human hadn't heard Arthur sing in years.

Groaning, Arthur reached up and covered his face with his hands.

"Can we, perhaps, just forget about that little singing thing that happened yesterday? Just forget it entirely?"

Francis gently pulled Arthur's hands away from his face so that the Englishman could see the confused expression he wore.

"But why would I want to forget it, Arthur? You sing beautifully."

_I don't want to hear it Arthur_. His mother told him when he was ten and discovered he loved singing.

_Not exactly my "thing". _The first girl Arthur ever liked told him when he was fourteen.

_I don't want a canary. _Was what the first guy who ever heard Arthur sing in college said.

The only human he had ever known to like his singing was Alfred. Perhaps, Matthew who never really said anything on the matter, but that was it.

Now Francis liked his singing too?

Devon: I think somewhere in there, there was supposed to be at least one of those handy little page breaks but I don't remember where I wanted to put it. Anyways, you have to wait for another chapter before lots of focus on Arthur's singing.

Replies to the Reviewers:

First of all, thank you all for reviewing:

Now then.

**Guest: **Isn't it though? Ah yes, well Francis couldn't really let his Englishman go~

**Lola: **I definitely care about you guys, unfortunately I keep getting suddenly busy for someone who normally has no life. Well thank you, I'm glad you like it.

**slashingfruit101: **I'm so glad you like it (especially since you aren't a big FrUK shipper)!

**Sora Resi: **Yes she's a lucky kitty. I wish someone would take care of me like that during storms *wistful sigh*

**EveningBlack: **Ahaha, I'm sorry. Especially since the end of this chapter could also almost be a cliffy (just a smaller one) and I love you too (even though I didn't give the update in a timely fashion).

**Little Miss Abrasive: **Haha singing for animals is wonderful though. Ah yes, Arthur probably would have been bothered by that too, under different circumstances. Thank you!

**Apela: **Thanks for the support! I was really unhappy with that chapter. Isn't she, though?

**greeneyedAlice91: **I'll admit, for as much as I dislike that chapter, I had fun with it too. Ah yeah I know how that is (they got rid of the t.v. too, no Bones for me :( ) I'm glad you like it! :3

**Katoryu: **Haha my dogs are a little jumpy too but thankfully they're just slightly-overweight lapdogs. I'm glad Alice sounds believable. I've had two cats in my life but neither are very jumpy (except for when my dogs bark) so I was a little afraid that she might not sound right. Yay~ Yes I agree that artists are the most critical of themselves, definitely (and writing is totally art). *slaps self* Oh my God. I can't even believe myself right now. *whispers ashamed* I haven't read your stories yet. I was all set to do it, and then I went up north and I was gone for so long and oh dear God. Ugh. (Oh but long reviews are the best~)

**Royal Puppet Master: **Arthur and Alice are too adorable.

**silvermangos: **You're right, there's always angst with FrUK and also, they definitely need more fluff. I'm glad my story has managed to add some. I'm so glad you like it so much~!

**Adriana Emerald: **Oh yay~ There will definitely be a party (speaking of icing...what flavor for the party cake? xD)

**CharCake: **Haha, thank you~

**Supermangageek23: **(a) Haha I'm happy to have another Ameripan shipper reading! (b) Thank you! (c) Haha I kind of did yoo x3 (d) Oh thank you! (e) Ah I'm glad!

**amba gurl: **Oh thank you! And I'm glad they're (still) in character!

**Sasunaru N Ichihitsu: **(a) Haha, I'm glad you enjoyed that so much :3 Okay, I will try to refrain from doing something like that again. (Don't choke on your Nutella! I'd be sad!) (b) *feels bad because Arthur's singing (flashback sort of) comes in _next_ chapter* Yay you survived! I...really don't know...Oh I'm so glad you think so!


	12. Chapter 12

Devon: My darlings! I'm back! Finally, I know. This chapter though...it fought me tooth and nail the whole way. Anyways, good news: my internet is back~ Finally. Bad news: I still have a lot of work to do before September comes around and I've hardly started so I really should be putting _all _of my writing on the back burners until it's done. I probably won't but I should...

Warning: Um...they sing. Sort of. That's not really a warning uh...*snaps* I use song lyrics in this chapter. I know, not exactly the best thing to do but hey you guys wanted to hear about his singing.

Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership to anything relating to Hetalia, other than my t-shirt, belt, four pins, and the plot to this fanfiction. I also claim no ownership to the song used.

Rating: M. *We're so close guys, we're so close*

Chapter Twelve

Francis sat back on his heels to study the blonde Englishman. Arthur's olive green eyes were trained on the ceiling, avoiding Francis's inquiringly look. Every time they blinked shut, his pale eyelashes gently kissed his flushed, ever-so-lightly freckled cheeks and Francis could almost envy them. Arthur's blush continued past his cheeks to dye his slim neck. If that wasn't enchanting and distracting enough for Francis, he could glance down and watch the steady rise and fall of Arthur's chest. Faint muscle definition hinted at a time in the past when Arthur had been more athletic.

Francis practically had to sit on his own hands in order to keep them to himself.

Letting his gaze travel even farther south as Arthur was avoiding him, Francis noted the slim line of dark blonde hair trailing beneath the waistband of Arthur's dark underwear; only visible thanks to the undone button and zipper of his tan slacks.

A small black line arched over the waistband of Arthur's slacks, around his left hip bone leaving Francis to wonder what other secrets Arthur's clothing was hiding.

Finally Arthur turned his head and pinned Francis with the confused look swimming in his eyes.

"What?" Arthur's voice cracked slightly when he spoke but he ignored it. No one could really blame him when he finally got up the courage to look at Francis once more and the Frenchman was studying him with such an…intense look. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I'm waiting." Francis replied simply.

"For what?"

"An answer. Why would I want to forget your singing Arthur?"

Arthur closed his eyes and tried to still his erratic heartbeat. Of course Francis would be the one person who'd actually force Arthur to talk about this with him.

"I'm not a very good singer Francis, I know that. You won't hurt my feelings."

When Arthur opened his eyes again, the expression on Francis's face couldn't have been more shocked had Arthur decided to slap him.

"Why would you ever think such a thing Arthur?"

Arthur opened and closed his mouth a few times, at a loss for words. How could he explain it to Francis? How could he possibly put it into words?

"It's not like-It's not like you're the first person to hear me sing before." Arthur muttered. Francis gave him an amused look.

"I never would have guessed."

Ignoring the Frenchman, Arthur swallowed audibly and continued. "And more often than not the people, who hear me sing, don't really like what they hear. I've just grown accustom to knowing that the only ones who want to hear it are Alice and Alfred."

"Alfred?" Francis asked. Was there another cat hiding around in the apartment? Arthur looked away.

"Never mind. The only one who wants to hear it is Alice."

"Well now I want to hear it too, Arthur." Francis argued stubbornly. Momentarily, he wondered what kind of tone-deaf people the Englishman had been spending time with before but it no longer mattered.

"Did you know you hum when you are happy?" Francis asked after a few minutes. Arthur gave him a baffled look and Francis smiled. "When you're having a good day, you hum. I've heard it countless times as you're walking down the path. You're voice has always been enjoyable to listen to."

"Sing-Singing and humming are completely different." Arthur stuttered.

"Really? I don't think so. They produce a similar sound. The only difference I've noticed is one includes words and one doesn't."

"Yes well what do you know about singing anyways?" Arthur crossed his arms over his chest and huffed. Francis laughed.

"Not much. But enough to know you sound beautiful Arthur."

After a few minutes of Arthur refusing to respond, Francis shifted around until he was laying on the ground next to the Englishman. Francis laid on his back and imitated Arthur's exact position. Still, Arthur ignored him-or at least pretended to.

So Francis began to hum. It was the tune of the song Arthur sang yesterday. Arthur tuned to look at the Frenchman who seemed content to stare at the ceiling.

"What are you doing?"

"What were the words again? I don't remember."

"I'm not singing again Francis."

Francis pouted. "Then at least let me know the words so I can sing."

"Little child, be not afraid." Arthur whispered after a few minutes. Francis turned to him wide-eyed.

"What?"

"The words, idiot." Arthur shot back with a scowl. "The song starts 'Little child, be not afraid. The rain pounds harsh against the glass, like an unwanted stranger. There is no danger, I am here tonight.' "

Smiling, Francis repeated the lyrics back.

"Little child, be not afraid. Though thunder explodes and lightning flash illuminates your tear-stained face, I am here tonight."

When the next line came, the chorus, Francis sang.

"And someday you'll know, that nature is so this same rain that draws you near me falls on rivers and land, and forests and sand; makes the beautiful world that you'll see, in the morning."

Arthur managed not to laugh, though he did smile a little too much.

"What was that?"

"Hm? Oh. I was singing." Francis replied with a nonchalant laugh. "I'm not exactly what you would call 'good' am I?"

"Oh no-that's not-you were fine Francis I just-"

"That is what someone who isn't a very good singer sounds like, _mon ami_. Not you. Now," Francis sent Arthur a mischievous smile. "You've heard me sing, so we're even. How about we finish the song together?"

"Git." Arthur muttered but to Francis's overwhelming delight, he gave in and sang-with Francis-the rest of the song.

When the two of them finished with their song, Francis reached his arms up to stretch. When he lowered his arms once more Arthur was watching him with a faraway look in his eyes and a half smile dancing on his lips. Francis smiled back.

"I could kiss you right now."

A wide range of emotions flickered across Arthur's face in a matter of seconds as he took in Francis's words. Francis wanted to take back what he had said, or at least apologize for saying that when he knew it was so out of line in Arthur's mind but before he could Arthur pushed himself to his feet. Wordlessly, the Brit held out his hand and helped Francis to his feet.

"Arthur wait, I-" Francis started, though he wasn't quite sure how to apologize for what he said, but Arthur cut him off.

"It's alright Francis. I know you were just joking." Arthur said, shaking his head. "Anyways, now that I'm not going to be late for work, I'd like to take a shower." There was a pause, a possibly longer than necessary pause, as Arthur tried to find his next words. Francis kept his tongue. "You can stay, if you want, but I'm going to take a shower."

Arthur left the room before Francis could do more than smile brightly at him and nod.

* * *

Françoise, to say the least, was surprised when her human came barreling in through the door of their apartment. They had been together long enough for her to know his schedule, to know his routine. Whether it was his normal routine or the one that occurred after Francis spent the night away from home, which always happened for only one of two reasons, Françoise knew it by heart. Rushing in with a flushed face and breathless was not part of either routine.

On the nights when Francis went out with his friends, he came back the next day late in the evening, once his hangover was completely gone. He walked slowly and talked quietly then, like he was still nursing a small headache and immediately went to the kitchen to make a few crepes. He always gave Françoise a few bites.

On the nights when Francis went out with someone who wasn't his close friend, he came back earlier: usually around his usual lunch time. He moved gracefully then. He walked different; not always slower but smoother than normal, like he was dancing. He talked quietly then too but not like he was avoiding hurting his head. It was a quiet voice one would use to comfort or calm someone. He would greet Françoise, spend anywhere from five to thirty minutes petting her long white coat and whispering an assortment of compliments in French. He usually painted something after that, other times he would simply go out to the balcony and watch the outside world for a while. He always made crepes though. Those crepes were the best ones. Françoise knew. Francis always let her have a few bites.

These past few years, Francis had stopped having nights out with people who weren't Gilbert and Antonio; humans Françoise had grown to love almost as much as Francis as long as they didn't stay long. He had fewer nights with Gilbert and Antonio too. When Francis left to chase after Arthur, with Françoise's prompting of course, she expected her human back around midday. She expected happy, calm, graceful, loving Francis. She looked forward to crepes for dinner. She expected to hear French for the next few hours, which wasn't an uncommon thing; but his French always sounded different after nights away. It was a nice different.

"Late."

It was all Francis said as he bustled past his confused feline to his bedroom. Moments later he reemerged in different clothing. His hair was controlled once more and pulled away from his face with a black ribbon to match the black slacks and vest he wore. He had to work.

Before Francis could leave, Françoise managed to get his attention for just a few fleeting minutes. She wanted to know what happened. He always called work before on his nights away from home. Why was Arthur different?

"I do not know what will happen, _ma fille douce_." Francis whispered softly, crouching to scratch Françoise behind the ear a few times. "I left the decision up to Arthur."

With that, Françoise was left to watch her human leave once more, the door swinging shut slowly behind him. Why did humans have to make each other's lives so difficult?

* * *

When Arthur got out of his shower, his apartment was empty of any guest, French or otherwise. It was simply him and Alice. He wasn't surprised, only disappointed. Though it was a feeling he would deny having on the off chance anyone was to ask.

Arthur went about his usual morning routine. He got dressed, he put the kettle on, and he got the paper. He finished with his tea-making, made toast, and ate. He cleaned up and sat at the couch. Without work to rush off to, Arthur read the paper then, right after breakfast. It was different not having to worry about being late for work on a normal Tuesday morning. It was nice.

_It would've been nicer if you had managed to not screw up with Francis_.

Arthur wasn't sure why he let the voice in the back of his mind shout abuse at him. Perhaps he thought it was right or he at least agreed with it. Perhaps he would rather listen to a verbally abusive imaginary voice in the back of his mind than admit he missed having people in his flat; that after only a few days he missed the company of other people. Whatever the cause, Arthur let the voice get bad. It eventually became a constant mantra, buzzing in his ear like a fly.

Arthur put on music to try and drown out the voice but after one song he had to turn it off. The words sounded like they were sung in a foreign language and the instrumental sounded scratchy and wrong, so wrong in fact it made Arthur's skin crawl. Arthur then tried to read his book but after five, ten, fifteen times reading the same passage; Arthur had to admit he just couldn't focus on the words.

Television proved to be just as terrible, if not worse. The noise was like the music, intelligible and it made his skin-crawl. For the short bouts of time Arthur could make out the words being spoken, he tried to make sense of the plot of the show playing, only to get lost as the noise developed back into a growl.

When this all proved to be too much, Arthur stood up and marched himself to the door. He needed air; fresh air, outside air. It was the only way he was going to be able to clear his mind of everything fogging it in that moment.

A piece of paper was draped over Arthur's shoes. It didn't exactly prohibit Arthur from putting the footwear on, it was a thin flimsy thing he could easy push away or rip to get out of his way, but he didn't do either. He picked the paper up instead, wondering why and how the paper had managed to land so directly on top of his shoes.

When he saw the handwriting on the other side of the paper, Arthur knew immediately.

The letter started with just his name. It went on to talk about how nothing had been exactly "normal" in the four-year-long relationship between Arthur and the author of the note. The author apologized for approaching the situation in all the wrong ways.

"It's time for a change," Arthur read aloud to Alice, who looked on with an uncharacteristic look of curiosity on her furry face. "allow me to make up for my screw up this morning, as well as openly display to you Arthur, my intentions."

The name of a restaurant, an address, and a time were written beneath the lines Arthur read aloud.

"Will you do me the greatest favor in allowing me the pleasure of seeing you face again tonight, as my date?"

The bottom of the paper read only "Francis".

Devon: Woah. Um...so this chapter took like total 360 on me. I stopped liking what was going on about when Francis started trying to sing but I kept going with it and then last night my brain was like: Woah, wait up. We're gonna do it this way and you're gonna like it. And I do kind of like what happened. I liked talking about Francis's usual routine and him actually asking Arthur out on a date (which never in any brainstorming/draft/whatever of this story was going to happen) but now I'm kind of lost. Like Mattie was supposed to come back next chapter and that's not going to make a bit of a sense now so...we'll see I guess.

_(The song used was Lullabye for a Stormy Night by Vienna Teng)_

Replies to the Reviewers:

First of all, thank you all for reviewing:

Now then.

**Alinne Roselyn:**Not exactly a quick update but Arthur does sing :)

**Chi Cheshire Neko: **Haha thank you :) I'm so glad they're still in character! I'm afraid you had to camp out for a while, huh?

**supermangageek23: **Yay~ (I kind of am to)

**greeneyedAlice91: **Ah yes he does, but it doesn't seem to bother him, he must really like Arthur xD Yeah, they needed a little something. You're right though, Francis definitely should know Arthur's schedule by now. As for Arthur's singing...I don't think it was too bad...x3

**LovelyKnight:** Oh I'm so glad~ FrUk isn't my _favorite _pairing but it is really sweet and I'm glad you could discover that (or at least evidence of that) in this story~ You're too sweet~

**Sora Resi: **Ah yes, dear Arthur isn't the most confident of fellows, though everyone has _something_ they're a little...shy about.

**slashingfruit101: **Hello, you're very welcome! I'm glad you thought so~ I'm so glad the kitties are such a big hit with everyone~ :) Ah, thank you!

**Evening Black: ***laughs nervously* Uh...it's not exactly what happened but it's close right? (Love you too)

**Adriana Emerald: **That sounds perfect (and you're very thoughtful of your guests~) Oh...I missed the end of your internship, didn't I? :(

**Britannia Chesire Cat: **Soon darling, soon ;)

**Katoryu: **Yay, just...yay~ Oh good! I'm glad they didn't seem to harsh. (I love making abbreviations. I had stories "JON" and "BFG" for a while xD) It's totally understandable, you're still kind of new. You're very welcome. Ugh, you have made me ship things I had never intended to ship xD

**Sasunaru N Ichihitsu: **Oh thank you! I tried for a conversation between the two but it didn't really work out...sorry. But there will be plenty more of the kittens, don't worry :) I love you too

**Running Lynx: **Hello! I'm so glad. (Aw, not even a little?) I'm just...so happy you like everything~ Sometimes the silly, mundane things are the best parts. I totally get it. x3 Thank you. I will definitely keep writing. (Good luck to you as well!)

**Iwantaponie: **Aw thank you darling~ ((Ah I'm sorry it was such a long wait!)) Matthew was supposed to come in somewhere between this chapter and the next but I just...it doesn't look like it will happen xD

Keep Writing!  
~DMD


	13. Chapter 13

Devon: *clears throat* So for the past few weeks, every time she saw me on the computer my sister yelled at me because this chapter wasn't finished yet. I would hardly consider what she did motivational but despite the work load recently dumped on me, I did manage to finish this chapter. Almost a whole month later...

Warning: THERE IS SOME DRAMA BETWEEN CHARACTERS WHO I HAD NEVER INTENDED TO HAVE THIS MUCH DRAMA IN EVERY DAY. Like Holy Shit. Okay, there are two characters who I had always intended to have a kind of screwed up relationship but I had no intention of focusing on it too greatly in Every Day because that's not who the story is about-it's about Francis and Arthur. But holy shit those two managed to come into this story and just like yanked the original plot away from me. Also, I randomly used a lot of French and German in this chapter in comparison to how much I normally put in a chapter (I'll blame it on my friend and I taking French and German and discussing it a lot)

Discalimer: Yeah I definitely don't own this.

Rating: M. This chapter hints at least at something rated a little closer to the M-side of the T-rating scale but it's not quite smut yet (or the smut ya'll came here looking for)

Chapter Thirteen  
France (Francis) x England (Arthur)/America (Alfred) x Japan (Kiku)/Spain (Antonio) x S. Italy or Romano (Lovino)/!SPOILER FOR THIS CHAPTER! Canada (Matthew) x Prussia (Gilbert)/Yes there will be more but I'll save those until we get there

His shoes forgotten, Arthur backtracked to his couch where he let himself collapse against the cushions. The letter from Francis was in his hands.

Alice followed after her human, and after a few tries, managed to get onto the coffee table in order to sit at eye level with the blonde. Arthur didn't notice her at first, he was rereading the letter from the silly Frenchman, but Alice could be patient. Something had obviously changed when Francis left Arthur his letter, she just wasn't sure what. Humans had always been a puzzling thing to her.

"I haven't been on an actual date since college." Arthur finally muttered. Alice responded with a quiet hiss. College was a human word she had quickly learned the meaning of and she didn't like it one bit. Arthur's time in college was miserable for both of them. Arthur wasted his time with loud, rude, terrible smelling humans who many times treated him worse than the people he had lived with before college, his "family". Alice had to deal with long bouts of time alone and when Arthur was home, he was either asleep, studying, or with the foul people he had become "friends" with. Perhaps she had welcomed the Frenchman in too quickly. Arthur looked over at Alice finally and tried to give her a small smile.

"I'm sure Francis will be a much better date than the blokes from college, Alice."

The feline wasn't reassured.

Arthur sighed and forced himself to sit up. He laid the letter on the table and Alice promptly batted it to the floor. A small leap later she had situated herself onto Arthur's lap. Arthur gave her a bemused look but didn't protest, simply picked the paper up and placed it on the table once more.

"What should I do about this?" Arthur murmured softly, scratching the top of Alice's head. "I…I do like Francis but he also happens to drive me crazy."

Arthur grew silent for a few minutes, lost in his thoughts. Francis said in the letter that he had approached things in the wrong way, that he wanted to make clear his attentions. Exactly how long had Francis been…wanting to ask him on a date?

* * *

Matthew woke up with a sore back and only able to feel three of his four limbs. After a few seconds of observation, he discovered that the seeming lack of his left arm was thanks to a still-snoring albino lying in the bed next to him. A ghost of a smile flittered across Matthew's face as he watched the silvery-haired man. Sleep was the only time Gilbert was still. Very slowly, Matthew attempted to slide his arm out from underneath Gilbert. He didn't want to wake him up, very rarely did Matthew get a few calm minutes like this with his partner, but his arm was beginning to hurt.

A few swallowed curses and a quiet whimper from Gilbert later, Matthew was half-way sitting up, leaning against the bed's headboard and Gilbert's head was lying against his bare abdomen. Gilbert's dark blue-nearly black-sheets felt cool against Matthew's naked body and in comparison to the warmth radiating off the German's (or Prussian's if you asked Gilbert) body.

A small sliver of light that had made its way through the heavy drapes, alerting Matthew that it was morning. How late into the morning however, Matthew wasn't sure. Hopefully it wasn't too late. He was fairly certain Gilbert had mentioned having work today.

Not bothering to cover up his yawn, Matthew stretched his right arm out to grab his cell phone off the bedside table. After a moment of consideration he grabbed his glasses as well and perched them on the bridge of his nose. They were crooked. Matthew sent a half-hearted glare to his sleeping bed mate. He'd lost track of just how many times he told Gilbert not to throw his glasses. Unfortunately Gilbert had a terrible habit of getting worked up about something and never listening to a word Matthew said. Matthew pushed a button on the side of the phone to unlock it and a notification for a missed call flashed for just a second before the screen lit up a bright white color. Before the obnoxious ringtone Alfred had programmed onto the phone (and Matthew was too forgetful to change) could wake up Gilbert, Matthew answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"Ah-um Matthew? Is this a bad time?" It only took the blonde a few seconds to place the accented voice.

"No, no it's fine I'm not-um what's up Arthur? Is everything alright?"

The Brit didn't answer for a few minutes, Matthew even had to check and make sure the phone call was still connected when Arthur didn't respond to Matthew calling his name.

"I have a date tonight." Arthur finally muttered.

"You have a date?" Matthew repeated, unsure if he had heard Arthur correctly or not. The Englishman made a quiet noise of confirmation. "That's um…that's great Arthur." Matthew said when Arthur didn't elaborate. On the other line, Arthur sighed audibly.

"I'm sorry, Matthew. I'm not sure why I called you. I'm just not…I don't know what to do."

Matthew was quiet for a few minutes, letting what Arthur said replay in his mind. Gilbert was still snoring and Matthew found himself running his fingers through the man's short silky hair.

"Do you like them?"

"Who?"

"The person who asked you out on the date Arthur." Matthew replied with a soft laugh.

"I think I do." Arthur reluctantly admitted.

"Then what's the problem?"

"I don't know how to _date_. I mean, I haven't been on a date since college and even then, I would hardly call what I was doing 'dating'."

Matthew found himself smiling at Arthur's nervousness. It reminded him of when he and Alfred were in middle school, and Arthur was in high school. He wanted to ask someone out on a date but didn't have a clue how to approach it, so he came to Alfred for advice, though he'd never admit that he was searching for help when he showed up at their house that afternoon. Alfred didn't manage to provide him with anything useful-as it turns out Alfred was worse at dating than Arthur was-but the three of them entertained themselves for a few hours bouncing ideas off each other.

"Just go on the date and be yourself." Matthew advised Arthur. "If you got close enough to someone for them to ask you on a date, I'm sure that they want to date _you_."

Matthew looked down at Gilbert, who slowly was beginning to wake up. He wasn't exactly good at dating either but he could try and help.

Arthur was floored by Matthew's advice. Not that it was unexpected or strange but his comment after; even after all these years (and despite the fact that Arthur was never as close to Matthew as he was to Alfred), the young man still knew Arthur well. Of course he had to be familiar with Francis, dare he say even close to Francis, before he would even consider going on a date with him. He wouldn't be comfortable if he wasn't and Arthur was undeniably, strangely comfortable with Francis.

"You-You're right, Matthew. Thank you. I apologize for bothering you. I suppose I just needed someone to tell."

Matthew promised Arthur that it was no problem and wished him good luck on his date. Then phone call ended shortly after.

Gilbert was still motionless but his snoring has all but stopped.

Matthew ignored the notification of the missed call in exchange for one of a new voicemail. Swiftly typing in his password and pulling the phone to his ear, Matthew listened to his new message.

"One unheard message. Tuesday, August 20th, 2013. 8:45 a.m." The mechanical voice recited before a breathy, familiar voice filled Matthew's ears.

"Mathieu! I did it! I asked him out on a date. A real date."

"End of message."

Matthew sat with the phone in his hand, grinning ear to ear. How could he forget that Francis and Arthur lived in the same apartment complex?

* * *

"Oi! Boy! You're late!"

Francis looked up from the dish he was preparing to see his pale coworker and old friend duck away from a thrown cooking utensil.

"I should sue you." Gilbert shouted back, once he was out of his boss's throwing range.

"You don't have the money or education to sue me." Francis heard the boss mutter. Gilbert feigned insult but didn't provoke the moody woman any more than he already had. Gilbert disappeared into the back room and returned a few moments later buttoning the top of his uniform. Francis shook his head.

"Oh shut up Franny, we can't all wake up at the crack of dawn to start preparing food." Francis snorted as his friend half-heartedly shoved his shoulder. The albino man squeezed between Francis and another member of the kitchen staff to get to his post.

"You're lucky you haven't been fired yet. Starting work at nine o'clock is not that obscene, _mon ami_."

Gilbert replied with an exasperated "duh" look.

"Ja, it is. And that old bat won't fire me. She'd have no one to yell at."

Gilbert's German accent was especially thick and a smirk made its way onto Francis's face when he finally noted how heavily the "Prussian" slurred his English words.

"Ah. So that is why you were late."

Gilbert's hair stood on end as he felt rather than saw the look Francis sent his way.

"I don't know what you're talking about Franny."

Francis took his dish off the flame, turning to the cleared counter next to him to begin plating the dish.

"Who was it, Gilbert? Lizzie or your mysterious 'Birdie'."

" 'Birdie' and I are just _freunde_." Gilbert immediately responded. He was always touchy on the subject of he and 'Birdie'.

"Friends? Gilbert you've been saying you're just friends with her for three years."

"We are."

_So it was 'Birdie'_. Francis thought to himself. The only time he got such a defensive reaction from Gilbert was when the German-Prussian-man had spent the night previously with his mysterious "friend".

Francis put up the plate for a waiter to grab and started on his next order. He didn't say anything else on the topic for a few minutes, focusing his attention on the dish he was preparing. Francis could feel Gilbert's exotic red eyes watching his every move. Finally the silver haired man gave a disgruntled sigh.

"Shut up Francis."

"So will we ever get to meet the mysterious 'Birdie' or learn her actual name?" Francis asked.

"_Nein_."

Francis arched an eyebrow.

"_Quoi_? Why not? You've raved about how great 'Birdie' is for the past three years nearly every time you, Antonio, and I go out. Why do you refuse to introduce us?"

"Because we're not serious, Franny. What's the point in introducing you three?"

"Not serious." Francis laughed. "You've never been in a relationship longer than six months. Yet three years later…"

"Exactly. It's lasted because it is not a relationship. Just…"

"Sex?"

Gilbert looked down at the food he had started to prepare with a strangely forlorn look.

"Ja. Just sex."

Francis dropped the subject. He'd known Gilbert long enough to know when not to push the man anymore. His flamboyant friend was obviously troubled by something going on with him and Birdie and Gilbert would tell Francis and Antonio when and if he needed to.

The two worked quietly for the next few hours. They focused on the food they were cooking and the customers they were serving. Other than a few "pardon me"s and "could you pass the…" Gilbert and Francis hardly spoke. It wasn't until their lunch break that Francis got to tell his close friend about the possible advancement in his romantic life.

Gilbert had actually brought the subject up. He knew how long the Frenchman had been struggling with the stubborn Brit in his apartment complex. He thought perhaps he could tease the Frenchman a little as pay back for the grilling he had been given coming into work.

Gilbert's jaw nearly hit the floor when Francis finally admitted he asked Arthur on an actual date. Francis hadn't been on a date for years. All three members of the jokingly dubbed "Bad Friends Trio" weren't that great at "conventional dating".

"When is the date?"

Francis shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

"Well if Arthur agrees. It is tonight."

"_Mein Gott_." Gilbert laughed with a shake of his head. "You're an even bigger _dummkopf _than I thought."

Devon: Hey, this should be up right in time for Friday the 13th. Lovely. Also, sorry 'bout that thing with Gil and Franny. That was supposed to be a little happier-more like joking/teasing but then it didn't happen...Okay last comment, I needed to do two creative writing assignments for one of my classes and I realized more than half of all the time I spent writing this summer was for Every Day and so my creative writing pieces were pretty shitty. Then after focusing on them for who knows how long, I finally found the time to finish this chapter which I'd been like...adding a sentence or two every time I got a few minutes...and I feel a little rusty. Hopefully that fixes itself soon.

Replies to the Reviewers:

First of all, thank you all for reviewing:

Now then.

**EveningBlack: **Haha progress, finally, right?

**Sasunaru N Ichihitsu: **Ah-hah, I'm so glad you enjoyed both Francis and Françoise and Arthur's singing. I'm glad it came out like that, thank you! :) Well I'll try to do it more but I'll also try to refrain from killing you. ;) Don't worry about it!

**Sora Resi: **Yay~

**Adriana Emerald: **I'm glad your Saturday night was improved because of my story that really, really means a lot to me, you have no idea. Still, I feel bad. I wanted to get it up before your internship was over. Well I'm sorry you didn't find your Francis auditing but you're right there's still plenty of time (and hey, if you do find the secret recipe for enjoying your single life and getting men's attention please do share ;) )

**Running Lynx: **Hi! :) You're very welcome. Calm before the storm. I like it. Though it seems like Arthur is going to accept the invitation in this chapter, we will have to wait to find out, won't we? I can see where RusAme comes from but I feel like I'm betraying Ameripan (the first thing I ever really strongly shipped in Hetalia) when I flit over to other America x Somebody-related things. x3 I thank you, but I'm afraid the trainload arrived a little late. However, I got it in time to start thinking about the next chapter and I've got a good, pretty strong idea. The only problem now is finding the free time to actually write it.

**greeneyedAlice91: **It's a very good song, if you haven't yet, I recommend listening. I can't say it's my favorite but its good and I thought it was a fitting song to comfort someone during a storm. Honestly I think it'd be kind of adorable if Arthur had another cat named Alfred x3 Something to think about...Ah I'm so glad~

**Katoryu: **Oh thank God. Rewriting is always such a pain. It's good for improvement but I always end up getting discourage so I for one-if it means anything-certainly won't look down on you if you don't ever rewrite them. Well I look forward to reading the rest of the stories and the sequels :) Oh no. What did I get myself into? xD (Trust me, I didn't see it coming either) You know me too well, I can't have people guessing what's going to happen. Yeah, they certainly are interesting and the more FrUk the better xD (I'm...still not sure how I feel about UsUk...)

**slashingfruit101: **No one understands how happy I am every time I hear that people like the kitties. It is very good (I sang that song practically the whole time I was writing the chapter xD) Oh wow. Like...that's really great. I'm like mind blown. (I was like for a long time. Then I started actively going on tumblr/watching Hetalia...) Aw~ Ah yes they are but it's kinda fun that way. x3 Everyone's a little confused in this story.

**sophiakuso: ***flails* Thank you! I will keep writing I promise!

(Oh my God look at how many of you there are. You guys are too good too me.)


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